


It Could Have Been a Pleasant Evening

by Trooks



Series: Kink [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Body Worship, Boot Worship, Caning, Closeted Harry, Cock & Ball Torture, Complete, Dom Draco Malfoy, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Face Slapping, Flogging, Hair-pulling, Homophobia, Humiliation, M/M, Master/Slave, Mystery, Piercings, Rough Body Play, Strapping, Sub Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2019-09-12 23:46:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 75,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16881561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trooks/pseuds/Trooks
Summary: Draco dominates Harry and Severus dominates both, but Harry struggles with submission.  When neo-Death Eaters attack Diagon Alley with a horrible new curse designed to demoralize the population, Harry is frozen out of the investigation because he can't be trusted to obey orders when it counts.  In the aftermath of the attack, Harry meets Maurus, a consensual slave.  Deeply impressed by him, begins a journey in his personal life which allows him to become who he was meant to be.





	1. It Could Have Been a Pleasant Evening

Perhaps it was the heady feeling of being in Chicago where they didn’t know anyone and could be out and open the way they couldn’t in London.  Perhaps it was the absolute shock of seeing Lavender Brown five years out of Hogwarts, in a leather bar, in Chicago, with her sub.  Perhaps it was the sheer annoyance when Lavender not only touched his collar, but screeched, “Oh my GOD, Harry…. But you don’t have a submissive bone in your body!” then started giggling in a way that made him wonder if they were still 11 years old at Hogwarts.  Regardless of _why_ , regardless of what had driven him to do something so completely impulsive, Harry was sure he was in it and in it deep.  Which is why he quickly knelt down at Draco’s beautifully booted feet in the middle of a very crowded bar and started licking as though his life depended on it.  He was sure his ass did.    

Calmed by the familiarity of the scent of polish, the taste of salt from the road, and the feel of leather on his tongue, Harry ran through their evening thus far.  He had been left at the bar with instructions to buy two beers while Draco went to the lav.  Their usual rule was that he not speak in public while collared except as necessary to Draco, and to Draco only, or with Draco’s permission, so when Draco returned to find Harry speaking to Lavender he raised his eyebrow in question.  Of course, he couldn’t hear a word of what was being said.  All Harry would have had to have done at that point was explain that he was simply asking the stupid bint to remove her hand from his collar.  The evening would most likely have progressed pleasantly enough from there.  But he didn’t explain himself.  No, instead he got pissy about being brought to heel in front of a schoolmate, rolled his eyes, and huffed at Draco.  And Draco… well, Draco just didn’t do eye rolling.  Nor huffing.  He had explained that at some length the first time Harry had eye rolled and huffed, and on every subsequent occasion he had explained again, usually with a strap but sometimes with a cane, that he did not do huffing and eye rolling.  And now, of all things, Harry had huffed and eye rolled in public and in front of another dominant (although, fuck, Lav as a dom was just impossible to take seriously).

All thinking done in seconds, he realized that treating Sir’s boot like a pacifier while his mind wandered over events was hardly the right headspace for bootlicking.  He tried to refocus his energy, but at that moment a man tripped over him.

Draco caught the falling man before he hit the bar and righted him.  He sounded for all the world like a member of the landed gentry at a golf club rather than a leatherman at a leather bar as he apologized for his inconsiderate sub.  He then turned his attention to Harry, grabbing his hair roughly and hauling him to his feet.  He glared coldly at his boy, still pulling up uncomfortably on his hair, waiting until he had Harry’s full attention before growling, “What.  The hell.  Has gotten into you?”  He shook Harry by his hair with each phrase.  “You do not,” _shake_ “roll your eyes” _jerk_ “at me.” _Rattle_ .  “You do not,” _shake_ , “huff” _jerk_ “at me.”  _Pull_.  “And you damn well,” _shake_ , “do not lick my boots” _yank,_ “without having” _jerk_ “earned it.”  Draco let go of Harry’s hair before continuing in a voice so soft Harry had to lean in to hear it, “I don’t even fucking know where your head was while you were licking them.  It certainly wasn’t on me or my pleasure.  Bad enough that you did it without permission and in the middle of a crowded bar where someone was bound to trip on you.  We will discuss this further at the hotel.  Get the beer and keep your mouth shut for the rest of the evening.”

Harry was on his best behavior for the rest of the evening, the fluttering feeling of anxiety and anticipation never entirely leaving his belly.  Draco watched the tension slowly wear on his boy for a couple of hours before sending him ahead to the hotel with instructions to lay out his pajamas and draw him a bath.  Harry hurried and did as asked, now completely mindful of his Sir’s pleasure.  He then stripped off and knelt next to the bed to wait, his erection hard and exposed between his spread thighs.  “I don’t know what you are excited about,” he said to his cock, “punishment from Draco is never fun, and a punishment for publicly acting out in front of another dom [ha!  Lavender a dom.]… hell.”

Time passed.  Too soon and not soon enough Harry heard Draco swipe the lock.  Harry stiffened his posture, straightening his arms behind his back to push his chest forward, and ducked his head.  Draco stood behind him for a few long minutes before ordering him into the bathroom.  “Undress me.”  Harry tried to give his full attention to Draco while unbuttoning his shirt, but his mind was fixed on the coming punishment and his hands shook on the buttons.  Draco glared at him, unmoving, as he struggled with his task.  He wouldn’t give Harry any words of comfort.  They would be disingenuous given what he was going to do after his bath.  Finally, Harry finished with the shirt and Draco, not wanting the bath to get cold, grabbed him by the face and shoved him away hard enough that he stumbled into the wall before undressing himself the rest of the way.  Harry washed him, alternately rushing to get his punishment over with as soon as possible and trying to draw things out to hold off the inevitable.  Not his best service ever, Draco thought to himself.  Harry was dejectedly thinking the same thing. 

Soon enough the bath was over and Draco pulled on a pair of black pajama bottoms.  Ordinarily, Draco would give a curt order to assume one position or another in a particular place while awaiting punishment, but he was enjoying Harry’s discomfort at not knowing whether he was doing the right thing.  He left Harry standing awkwardly to the side of the room while he transfigured a nursery and senior cane from their toothbrushes, as well as some cuffs from the washcloths.  He laid out his tools neatly on the bed.  Deciding the lamps would be plenty of light, he transfigured the overhead into a hard point.  He grabbed his belt from the dresser and put it with his other equipment.  He then turned his attention back to his boy, who was staring wide eyed at the collection on the bed.  None of it was particularly imaginative, but all could be used to cause a significant amount of pain with minimal work on Draco’s part.  The little nursery cane was incongruous, though, and somehow all the more threatening for not fitting in with the more serious implements.

Draco sat on the edge of the bed with his knees casually apart, and pointed to the floor at his feet.  Harry ducked his head and knelt, a thin sheen of sweat already marking his brow.  Draco began, in a quiet and reasonable tone, “Harry, we have been together for 3 years now.  Very early on, I told you that I expected verbal communication appropriate to your age and station.  You are simply too old, and too accomplished, and too … famous… to roll your eyes and huff.  It is beneath you, and it is displeasing to me.”

“Sir, I’m so sorry, I was….”

“Quiet!” Draco barked.  Harry fell silent again and Draco waited a moment before continuing in the same reasonable tone he had started with.  “If you had used your words earlier, it could have been a very pleasant evening.  Since you gave up your chance to use your words then, you will not use them now.  Animal sounds only until I tell you otherwise.  You may grunt, groan, weep, sob, and scream, but the only word I want to hear tonight is your safeword if you need it.”

“Yes, S…” Harry started before an open handed slap across the face cut him off.  Harry looked up, startled before his face clouded over with anger, “Fuck!”

Another smack landed on the opposite cheek, before Draco continued, “Fuck is not your safeword, boy.”  Harry ducked his head again, allowing Draco to continue.  “I realize seeing an old friend…”

“She’s not a…”

 _Smack._   “makes it hard to bear correction, however there are certain standards which I expect you to maintain.  On your feet.  Get your wand and give it to me.”  Harry hesitated a moment before getting his wand and laying it in Draco’s hand, kneeling again.  Who wouldn’t get their rocks off at the Slayer of Voldemort kneeling naked and defenseless… and voluntarily so… at their feet.  Draco tore himself away from the toppy feelings and used Harry’s wand to move the desk to the center of the room, under the hard point. 

“Up, boy.  Bend over the desk, ass out, grab the other side.”  Harry looked over his shoulder briefly to see Draco pick up the senior cane.  He rested his right cheek on the desk, and grabbed the edge with white knuckles.  An erotic caning would start slowly and build, likely never hitting full force.  This caning, Harry new, would start full force.  What kind of idiot rolled his eyes at a Sir who could conjure a cane and knew how to use it?

Draco watched the tension build in his boy before finally stepping into position.  _Tap, tap… swish_.  Harry grunted at the impact, then moaned as the sensation blossomed.  He turned his face into the desk and pushed his forehead down against it, wishing Draco had told him how many, but knowing better than to ask.  Draco, with infinite self-control, waited a full minute before tapping for the next blow.  By the third stroke, Harry wanted to beg.  He sobbed instead.  After 12 strokes, Draco stopped and Harry thought he might be done.

Before he knew what was happening, Draco had locked the cuffs around his wrists.  “Kneel up on the desk for me, Harry.  Let your feet dangle over the side.”  He conjured some rope which ran through the eye bolt and attached to the cuffs.  A sticking charm held his shins in position on the desk and the rope shortened to pull Harry taut.  Harry’s eyes took on the slightly wild look that people get the moment they realize they are immobilized, then widened as he saw Draco take up the nursery cane.

Draco put a calming hand on Harry’s calf, but touched the nursery cane to the exposed and immobilized bottoms of his feet.   “Harry, I won’t lie, you’re going to feel this.  For the next few days, standing and sitting are going to be extremely painful for you.  You’ll likely feel something for a couple of weeks in your feet and ass.  In fact, the only really comfortable positions I plan on leaving you are on your knees or prostrated at my feet.  Remember, it’s okay to scream… safeword if you need it.”  And with that, Draco started caning the bottoms of Harry’s feet.  Harry screamed.

Finally, Draco stopped.  Harry didn’t think he could take anything else, but there was still the belt on the bed.  Draco cancelled the sticking charm and moved the desk back against the wall, adjusting the rope so that Harry’s feet just touched the floor.  He watched as Harry struggled to pull up on his cuffs to take the weight off his bruised feet.  Harry looked over his shoulder to see Draco taking up the strap.  Draco put his hand on the back of Harry’s neck to steady him.   “An obstinate slave gets his back whipped.  This is to remind you of your place.” Harry wept.

 As Draco whipped his back, Harry once again wished he could beg Draco to stop, but had to content himself with crying, sobbing, and screaming until Draco decided he was done.  By the time it was over, his face was a mess of snot and tears.  Finally, he heard the strap hit the ground. Draco’s warm body pressed against his unmarked front, an arm reaching around his lower back in the only place left unbruised to support him as his wrists were released.  Draco laid him gently prone on the bed before laying down on his back next to him.  He conjured a warm washcloth and wiped away the sweat, snot and tears, then ran his fingers through Harry’s hair for a long while until the sobbing stopped.

Draco turned off the lights with his wand, then whispered in Harry’s ear, “I don’t think you deserve to suck my cock tonight, frankly, but I know how important it is for you to regain your connected feelings after this sort of punishment, so I’ve decided to let you.  But Harry, no teasing.  Just suck me off.  If you fuck around, I’m just going to put you on your knees, fuck your face, and you’ll sleep on the floor.”

Harry rolled his eyes in the darkness, and huffed silently before starting in.


	2. In Which Severus Sets Things Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No offense intended to the littles of the world.

Severus Snape was tired and fuzzy headed when the transatlantic portkey deposited him in an empty lot in Chicago.  He boarded the El and let his mind wander as he made his way to his boys.  They had left Scotland a few days before him, planning to spend the time exploring Chicago while Severus wrapped up loose ends at Hogwarts.  Harry, brat that he was, had commented that he and Draco needed some time to be young in a new city before “the old man” followed and made them behave.  Severus wondered what they had been up to and hoped they hadn’t been too reckless.  Being at Hogwarts had been lonely after they left, and he had missed sleeping between two warm bodies.

Finally arriving at the hotel, he picked up the extra key card at the front desk and took the elevator to the top floor.  Finding his room, he no sooner started to swipe the card than the door flew open his arms were full of an exuberant Harry.  Draco hung back and asked formally, “How was your trip, Severus?” 

Entering the room, Severus replied, “Tiring.  Have any firewhisky?”  He looked over Harry and Draco.  Harry was barefoot, wearing only his pajama bottoms and a tight fitting t shirt despite it being late afternoon, while Draco was formally dressed and shod.  Draco held himself with aristocratic reserve, while Harry buzzed with excitement at Severus’ arrival. 

“No, Severus, but you have to try this bourbon we bought on our trip to Kentucky yesterday!  We toured the distillery and everything.”  Harry quickly padded over to the desk and poured out for Severus.  He was still walking a bit gingerly from his punishment a couple days prior, and Severus noticed but decided to ask about it later. 

“Thank you, Harry.”  Severus accepted the brown amber liquid gratefully and allowed Draco to maneuver him into a wing chair, taking his coat.  Harry knelt to help take off Severus’ boots while Draco called room service for dinner.  Once Harry was done, Severus motioned him to his lap and said, “Up here boy, and let me see those marks.”  Harry happily hopped up and showed the bottoms of his feet, which had several linear bruises across them, evenly spaced and perfectly parallel.  “Hmmm… nicely done, Draco – very even.  Were these play or punishment?”

At that, Harry stilled.  “Punishment, Sir.”  He hoped to leave it at that and gulped when he realized Severus was waiting for him to continue with a confession.  “I rolled my eyes and huffed at Draco, Sir.”

“In public.  In front of another dom.  While wearing your collar.” Draco added severely.

Harry pouted, “but the other dom was _Lavender Brown_ of all people.”

“I didn’t know she was in the lifestyle.” Severus stated in a matter of fact tone, “In any case, I thought Draco had cured you of your eye rolling habit some time ago.”  Severus gave Harry an icy look before turning to Draco, who was still standing, “Why did he roll his eyes at you?”  While Harry was indeed a brat, Draco could provoke a saint to roll his eyes. 

“I don’t know.  Does it matter?”  Draco replied flippantly. 

“Harry?”

Realizing Severus wasn’t going to let this go, and not a little upset that something he had already been punished for was likely to ruin another evening, Harry wiggled off his lap to kneel at his Sir’s feet, eyes down, before continuing, “Draco left me at the bar to get drinks while he went to the lav, and Lavender came and fingered my collar while laughing at the idea I could be a submissive.  I was angry, and told her not to touch my collar, and of course Draco arrived back at that moment and gave me a dirty look for talking.  I was annoyed that I was assumed to be in the wrong, and rolled my eyes at him and huffed.  I know I should have handled it differently”

“Well,” said Severus affectionately, ruffling Harry’s hair, “looks like you’ve already been adequately punished for that indiscretion.”  He turned to Draco, “You had words with Ms. Brown, I assume, regarding touching our boy or his collar?”

Draco was caught wrong-footed, and didn’t answer for several breaths.

“Draco, I expect a verbal answer, as attractive as you are when you blush.”   

“I… ahhh… didn’t realize that Lavender had touched his collar, Severus.  It happened before I returned from the lav.”  Severus’ face was dark and Draco’s voice a bit squeaky by the time he finished his explanation.

Severus once again turned his attention to Harry, who was still kneeling with his eyes down.  It wouldn’t be the first time Harry had left out a detail that would have mitigated punishment, and Severus didn’t approve of masochists using punishment dynamics to get what they wanted.  “Why didn’t you tell him when you explained yourself?”

Harry wasn’t sure what to say.  He guessed Severus would be upset that Draco hadn’t given him a chance to explain.  Harry didn’t want to throw Draco under the bus, but Severus demanded the truth.  And if Severus discovered later that Harry hadn’t told the whole truth…

Before Harry could figure out how to handle the situation, Draco did the decent thing.  “I didn’t give Harry a chance to explain.  It was a mistake on my part.”

“You _bastinadoed_ the boy for _rolling his eyes_ without giving him the chance to explain himself?”  Severus asked, sneering.

Draco blushed even more furiously before adding miserably, “… and strapped… and caned.”

Severus stood up, using his height to add to the glare he directed at Draco.  “Strip off, Harry.” 

No matter how many times Harry stripped for Severus, no matter how un-erotic the context, his cock responded as though it was the very first time Severus took him in his mouth.  He stripped quickly, carefully folding his things and laying them on the bed as Severus preferred.  Harry clasped his hands behind his back and dropped his gaze, his cock now standing proudly before him, his only adornment a locked chain collar. 

Severus stalked over angrily and looked him over, front and back, taking in the heavy bruising over his upper back and buttocks before turning disgustedly back to Draco.  “You did _this_ without giving him the chance to explain himself?  _This_ is your idea of a proportionate punishment for _eye rolling_?”  By the end, Severus was roaring, and Draco’s blush had faded to a pale, somewhat greenish hue, although he managed to hang on to his aristocratic posture.  Severus fell silent for a few breaths before continuing again with his usual control. “Harry, get dressed like a good boy, run and find out how I can contact Lavender.”

Harry dressed quickly, a bit disappointed that their reunion hadn’t ended with the fucking he had hoped for, but already planning how to find Lavender quickly.  As the door closed behind him, Draco felt his anxiety like a leaden weight in his chest.  Severus never punished Draco in front of Harry, and sending Harry out seemed like an excuse to get Draco alone. 

Severus relaxed back into the wing back chair and studied Draco from across the room.  He briefly entertained the idea of doing to Draco what Draco had done to Harry, but as ‘fair’ as that might seem on the surface, Draco and Harry processed pain very differently.  Harry could interpret significant pain as pleasure, while Draco quailed at the mere suggestion of three strokes with a junior cane.  On the other hand, if Severus simply gave Draco three of the best, Harry wouldn’t understand how seriously Severus took Draco’s failure to listen before punishment.  As Severus thought silently, it was all Draco could do to avoid squirming.  Finally, he decided to stand straight, clasping his hands behind his back, bowing his head and resigning himself to wait silently while Severus decided his fate.

Severus dosed off as he mulled over the most recent complexity in their family dynamic, to be roused a while later by a knock on the door.  Dinner had come up, and the waiter efficiently set up a small table with dinner for the three of them.  As though on cue, Harry arrived back.  Harry reported that he had found Lavender via Hermione, and that she was living far away in the mountains of West Virginia.  She was, however, on the floo network and so it would be easy to pay her a visit.  As they ate, Harry chattered on about the Museum of Science and Industry, as well as the Jazz clubs they had visited.  They had also found a wizarding tour to visit the distilleries in Kentucky and had sampled a wide variety before buying the bottle that currently graced their dresser.  Finally, dinner was finished and the mood chilled a bit as Severus gave Harry some money and directions to go to FAO Schwarz to buy a teddy bear.  Harry paused a minute, as though to ask why, before taking in the dark tension between his two Sirs and realizing he had best be off.

 

++++++++++++++++++++

 

Harry arrived back a couple of hours later, teddy bear in hand.  He had enjoyed the toy store at Christmastime and had spent a long time picking out the perfect bear, eventually settling on an 18 inch plush bear with a red bow around its neck, and a little tag to allow someone to write in the owner’s name.  He felt his mood plummet when he walked into the strained atmosphere of their hotel room.  Severus was sitting on the wing chair, scowling at his light reading while Draco laid sullenly on the bed, staring at the ceiling.  He had obviously been crying.

On noticing Harry’s return, Severus’ face smoothed, and he stated simply, “Draco and I have been to speak to Ms. Brown.  She will not touch your collar again.  If she does, you are to tell me immediately so that I can deal with her.”  He held his hand out for the bear, smirking at it as Harry handed it off.  “Good choice.”

“You can write in the owner’s name.  I wasn’t sure who it was for, so I just left it blank.”

“Ah, well that can be remedied easily enough.”  Still smirking, Severus took up a pen and wrote in big block letters, D-R-A-C-O.  Stopping to admire his work, he pronounced, “Perfect,” then tossed it over to Draco.  Harry was confused, but Draco seemed to have expected this.  “Tuck it under your arm, then, Draco.  Good boy.”

Severus took in Draco’s blush before turning to Harry.  His voice dropped to a bedroom register, “go and draw us a bath, please, Harry.  You and I haven’t had a chance to properly greet each other.” 

Harry padded happily to the bathroom and drew up a bath, somewhat hotter than he preferred himself, but he knew Severus liked it hot.  He stripped himself down and was folding his clothes when Severus entered, smiling and carrying bruise ointment.  “Shall I heal those for you, Harry?”

Harry smirked, “Only if you plan on replacing them.”

            Chuckling, Severus delicately applied the bruise ointment over Harry’s back, ass, and feet before allowing his hands to roam over Harry’s nearly hairless chest.  He paused at his nipples, circling his thumbs over them until they peaked, then pinching and twisting them more and more roughly until Harry started to grimace.  By the time he moved on, Harry’s nipples were berry red and swollen, sensitive to the least breeze.  Severus’ brilliant hands glided down Harry’s abdomen toward his cock, but detoured to massage his ass before getting there.  Harry huffed in frustration, stepping back against Severus’ body, letting his head drop back onto Severus’ shoulder.  It was a calculated move, to force Severus to move his hands back to the front.  “Whelp,” Severus accused, dropping his hands to his own sides, “Always trying to get your way.”

            Harry whined at the loss of Severus’ hands, “You know I’m a bad boy.  Always trying to take control.  I never listen, never just obey the way I ought.”

            “Never have, probably never will.  I don’t know if there’s any point trying,” Severus’ hand ghosted over Harry’s cock, his voice rough, “I spank you over and over again.  I’ve used my hand, I’ve used a paddle.  I’ve strapped you and I’ve whipped you.  I’ve made you come until it was painful, and I’ve denied you until you begged.  And you’re still the same undisciplined boy you’ve always been.”  Now Severus’ calloused hands went back to Harry’s already sensitive tits and started to rub, dancing on the edge of pain and pleasure.

            “Don’t give up on me, Sir, not yet,” Harry begged playfully, rubbing his naked ass over Severus’ clothed cock and arching his chest into his hands.

            “I guess I’ll just have to keep trying,” Severus huffed theatrically, turning Harry around and pulling him into a heated kiss. 

Severus kissed until Harry was breathless and rutting against his leg, then reached between them to gently fondle Harry’s balls.  Harry rose up a bit on his toes, expecting the grip to intensify to pain, but after a few seconds Severus laughed at his apprehension and pushed him away. 

Severus owned Harry with his gaze just long enough to make Harry drop his eyes, then barked, “Undress me,” having abruptly dropped the playful tone of moments earlier.  A delicious mix of anticipation, fear, arousal, and adoration coiled in Harry’s chest and radiated to his cock, as he reached out to unbutton Severus’ shirt, as he might have reached out to touch his own personal god.  As he bared Severus’ neck, Harry leaned in to trace the sternocleidomastoid with his tongue and lips, starting at the angle of the mandible and working down to the clavicle, then following the cut of the collar bone to the sternal notch.  As he adored Severus’ body with his mouth, his hands continued their downward course, unbuttoning the many buttons blindly, with practiced, agile hands.   He turned his attention next to the nipples, gently licking and sucking one while rubbing the other, never rough as Severus had been with him, but worshipful.  Once the shirt was unfastened, he pushed it back off Severus shoulders with both hands, and began to ply his tongue over his armpits, first the left, then the right, enjoying the salty taste and earthy, sour smell of his Sir.  After some minutes, he dropped to his knees and nuzzled Severus’ groin through layers of cloth, breathing the muskier scent there. 

Severus let him take his time, settling his bottom on the bathroom sink and spreading his legs slightly to give Harry access.  Finally, Harry bent down to remove Severus’ boots.  From his low kneel, he looked up through heavy lashes to check Severus’ reaction.  Severus stared back, fully attentive to his boy’s service.  “Lick them.”

Harry moaned spread his legs to allow him to pivot forward without crushing his cock.  He arched his back to better present the pert curve of his ass.  He drew saliva into his mouth before flattening his tongue, licking a wide swath over the top of the boot, pressing hard enough that Severus could feel it through the thick leather.  Soon he was lost in his task, and Severus in the beauty of his boy’s performance.

After many minutes, Harry heard Severus’ voice, seemingly from far away, ordering him to continue undressing him.  Startled, he looked up at Severus with blown pupils, and Severus seemed haloed in light.  Forcing his mind back into focus, Harry pulled off the boots and socks, then knelt up to unbutton Severus’ fly and work his pants and underwear carefully over his erect, glorious cock.  He paused for a moment to give a kiss that would not be out of place applied to a relic in a church before finishing his task.  Undressed, Severus slid into the tub, and Harry washed him, a second adoration.

++++++++++++++++++

Mellow from the bath, Severus left Harry in the bathroom to tidy up while he roused Draco.  As directed, Draco was still holding the bear.  “Go to the sofa, Draco, you can sleep there tonight.” 

Draco complied with as little good grace as he thought he could get away with, muttering as he stalked away, “I think I’d rather be caned.”

“Boys don’t get to pick their punishments.  You’ll carry that bear, and you will not explain why.”  Draco sat stiffly on the sofa.  “Slouch, Draco.”

Draco looked up, wide-eyed.  “You want me to _slouch_?”

Severus smiled darkly, “You sound more upset about that than the bear.  You do realize I can and will make this worse the more you resist?  I think next I’ll have you suck your thumb.  Or maybe a binkie?”  Draco finally slouched and, satisfied, Severus lay down on the bed.  “You do realize,” he continued, “We are going out tomorrow.  There is a tutorial on single tails at Touche I would like to take in.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Severus laughed darkly before asking, “How sure are you?”


	3. Chapter 3

A week came and went. Severus had attended his conference, which was the reason they had come to Chicago in the first place.  Draco had completed his punishment.  Harry had been given some new marks to replace those Severus had healed.  In the evenings they had explored the city together.  Severus never did make good on his threat to bring Draco to Touché with his Teddy bear, although he was close to doing so on a few occasions.  Finally, Sunday arrived and it was time to go home.  The three held a partridge feather portkey in the hotel bathroom and were soon back in Severus’ quarters at Hogwarts. 

They had barely settled in when a floo call came through for Severus from Lee Clearwater.  Lee and Severus had barely known each other at Hogwarts, despite being the same year.  They became acquainted in the years following school as their Sirs had been good friends, then cemented their friendship when they both transitioned to dominant roles at about the same time.

“Have you heard about Joseph?”  Lee began.

“No.  Is something wrong?”  Severus knew of Joseph but had only met him a few times.  If memory served, however, Lee and Joseph had been very close at one point.

“It’s bad.  He was struck by a curse during a neo-Death Eater attack on Diagon Alley last week while you were away.  He was released from St. Mungo’s a few days ago, but the healers said there was little they could do.  They said it could take him a year to die, but it is fatal.”

“Does he have someone caring for him?”

“His slave, Maurus.  They’ve been together for 20 years or so.”

“Have they apprehended anyone?”

“Not yet.  The neo-Death-Eaters have been getting more and more bold recently, and they seem better organized.  Hopefully the Aurors are working on it – something like ten people were struck with the same curse that day, including a little boy.”

Harry was listening in from his place on the sofa, feeling his brain transition back into Auror mode.  He expected he would learn more about the attack when he returned to work on Monday. 

“Severus, would you be willing to have a look at him?” Lee hesitated before continuing, “I know you don’t like to think of the past, but with your background in the dark arts…”

Severus sighed deeply, “Yes, of course, I’d be happy to.  I’ll bring Draco along also, as his family heritage is quite rich in this sort of knowledge.  He may recognize something I don’t.”

“Thank you, Severus, it’s all I can ask.  When can you come?  I will be there tomorrow evening, if you are available.”

Severus checked the patrol schedule before answering, “Tomorrow evening will be fine.  I’ll see you then.  Where and when?”

“Floo to Egyptian Sanctuary at 8 o’clock.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++

Harry felt his spine stiffen and shoulders draw back as he walked briskly through the doors of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement the next day.  Ron was standing near the coffee station and turned to greet him as he came through the doors.  “What happened while I was gone?”  Harry asked with a smile.

“What didn’t happen?” Ron shrugged, “Worst Death Eater attacks since the war, one right on Diagon Alley.”

“I heard about that.”

“The thing about it is, they are using a curse that kills over a long period of time.  Robards thinks it’s a strategy to demoralize the civilian population, to divert resources to caring for the sick.  It’s not like the old days where you caught an Adava Kadavra and were dead – it’s more like the Longbottoms writ large.”

“So, what are we doing?”

Head Auror Robards walked by, sneering, “You, Potter, are going to be a good little figurehead while Jackson and his team do the actual work.”

Harry sighed after Robards moved on.  “Why won’t they let me do anything real?”

Ron gave him a sympathetic look.  “Half of it is that people are afraid of being shown up by the Destroyer of Voldemort.”

“And the other half?”

Ron hesitated, looking uncomfortable.  “Well, no offense, but no one trusts you to obey orders when it counts.”

“Gah.  Where do they get that idea?”

“Well, there was that bust on Knockturn where you decided to enter the building despite being told to stay outside and call for help if Abbot didn’t come back out.”

“I thought I heard her near the entrance,” Harry objected.

“You nearly got Selwyn killed,” Ron replied definitively.   “Then there was the steak out in Bunhill, where you were told to sit tight and managed to get into a fight with four Muggles.”

“They attacked me!” Harry responded defensively, “What was I supposed to do?”

“Right.  I guess what I’m saying is, it almost doesn’t matter why these things happen to you.  You have a reputation for not obeying orders.  People get hurt.  Cases are set back.  You aren’t getting the type of experience that would prepare you to lead a team, and no team leader wants you on their team.”

“So, what, I should quit?”

“Nah, you look good in that uniform,” Ron laughed, “Just obey orders.  Keep your head down for a while.  The higher ups might not like you, but the high _est_ ups adore you… Just give it time.”

Despite Ron’s encouraging closure, Harry was discouraged, especially when, later in the day, Jackson stopped by to tell him he was expected to go to Diagon alley and look like he was involved in the investigation for the sake of the reporters.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++

As soon as Harry stepped out of the floo into Severus’ quarters, the starch went out of him.  It was almost half past six, and he had spent the day with Ron’s words running through his head, pretending to be the Great Harry Potter, Defeater of Voldemort, Chosen One while really not being allowed to contribute anything to the investigation.

“That kind of day?” Draco asked sympathetically from the sofa, where he sat with perfect posture in immaculate robes.  Harry grunted and went to the sideboard where the firewhisky was kept. 

“Uh-uh, Harry.  We’re going to see Joseph on his sickbed this evening and you will need to be on your best, most sober behavior.”

“I thought just you and Severus were going.  Anything I might know about cursebreaking as an Auror the healers at Mungo’s would have known.  I had a long day at the office, and I am going to have a drink.”

“No, Harry, you’re not.  Put the liquor down,” Draco ordered, “You are going to attend Joseph’s sickbed as a member of this family.  You will be on your best behavior.”

“Just keep chanting that, Draco,” Harry sneered as he poured himself a shot, “Maybe it will come true.  If that doesn’t work, just click your heels a few times for extra effect.”

Before Harry quite realized what was happening, Severus had entered the room and was holding him by the back of the neck.  “That. Is. Enough.  This is not the night for your incessant arguing.  You are going.  You are going sober.  Get changed.”

Harry twisted away from Severus’ grip and threw down the tumbler he was holding.  “I am not in the mood for this,” he glared at Severus and Draco in turn.

“This isn’t the sort of relationship you have when you are in the mood, and don’t have when you aren’t in the mood.  You are a member of this family, and this family is going to visit a sick member of our community.  You are going whether you like it or not, and you will behave with good grace.  Now, last chance, _go get dressed_.”  Severus allowed Harry a few moments to comply, but Harry crossed his arms and shook his head.

Like a black lightning bolt, Severus crossed the space between them and had Harry over his knee.  He pulled down Harry’s trousers and started spanking his bare bottom.  “Let go of me!”  Harry yelled as he tried to pull himself up. 

Severus shifted Harry so that his right leg was pinning both of Harry’s and pushed his head down with his left hand.  Harry continued to struggle, twisting and slipping as Severus worked to stabilize him.  Finally, Severus took his wand and cast _petrificus totalis_ , then dumped Harry unceremoniously on the floor.

“Draco, go and get wrist and ankle cuffs, some carabiners, and a strap.”

From his position on the floor, Harry could see only the carpet and Severus’ feet.  A few minutes passed in silence before he felt Draco placing and locking the cuffs.  Severus began his lecture once the cuffs were in place. “When you entered into this relationship, you agreed that both Draco and I would be able to give you orders and discipline you when you failed to obey.  You agreed to be a member of this family, and to represent us well in public.  I do not know what has so out of sorts today, but this… rampage of yours… ends here.”

Severus levitated Harry to the bedroom, where a length of chain was fixed between the ceiling and the floor.  He attached carabiners to the D rings on Harry’s cuffs, released the body bind, and with practiced movements attached the wrist cuffs to the chain a bit higher than was comfortable for Harry, drawing him slightly onto his toes.  Draco meanwhile knelt to attach the ankle cuffs to two eye bolts in the floor on either side of the chain. 

Had anyone been in the mood, Harry would have looked incredibly hot stretched between floor and ceiling, muscles rippling as he struggled against his bonds.  As it was, no one was in the mood.  Severus handed Draco the strap and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Do you understand why you are being punished?” Draco intoned formally.

“Fuck you.”

“Do you have any explanation to offer?”  Draco continued the formula Severus used before punishments, unaffected by Harry’s attitude.

“Go fuck yourself.  I am so not in the mood for this bullshit tonight.”

Severus shook his head and stood up, stopping the action and motioning for Draco to precede him out of the room.  Draco tossed the strap onto the bed on his way out.  Severus stopped to check the circulation in Harry’s hands and feet and set a monitoring charm before wordlessly following.

Suddenly alone with no one to fight, Harry’s emotional momentum was interrupted.  His anger left him, leaving only searing shame.  Ron was right; he couldn’t be trusted to obey orders.  He had once again ruined what could have been… well, maybe not a pleasant evening, but at least a contented evening with his family doing something good.  He was a selfish prat.  He felt his eyes start to burn and fought off tears, but as he listened Draco and Severus chatting indistinctly over their dinner they started to fall freely.  By the time Severus came back to check his circulation again, his tears were exhausted.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Harry said with his eyes down.

Severus sighed heavily and shook his head.  He studied Harry’s tear-streaked face for a minute before drawing his finger along Harry’s collar until it rested over the lock.  “Sometimes I wonder if you still want this.”

Harry’s eyes widened in horror before he started in a rush, “Sir, I’m so sorry.  I still want to be your boy.  I just had a really bad day at work, and I took it out on you and I shouldn’t have.  Please don’t take your collar back.”  By the time he finished, he was frankly begging.

“Harry,” Severus sounded tired, “I have no interest in beating you into submission.  If you need someone to play that game, I’m not the right dominant for you.”  Harry opened his mouth to interrupt, but Severus silenced him with a finger over his lips.  “I want you to think about our family and your place in it, and about your role as a submissive.  I need to know, once you have thought about it, whether this is what you need.  Draco and I are going to Jacob’s.  You are welcome to come, if you are able to at least pretend to be a good boy tonight.  If not, stay here and think things over.”

“I’ll come, Severus.  I’ll be good.”

Severus unbound Harry, rubbed out his arms and legs quickly, then sent him to get dressed.  A little while later, Harry came out wearing black lace up boots with white socks sticking up just over the top, skin tight Levis, a white t-shirt, and a black knee length open robe.  Severus, then Draco, and finally Harry flooed through, to be met in Joseph’s entryway by Lee.


	4. Chapter 4

The moment Harry stepped out of the floo he was struck by the nearly overwhelming smell of bleach with undertones of stale urine.  The smell contrasted sharply with the immaculate modern décor of the flat they had entered.  They were sick room smells, but Muggle sick room smells.  As Lee and Severus exchanged greetings and pleasantries, Harry noticed the electric lights, central air and heat vents, and, in the sliver of living room he could see through the door, a computer.

Moments later a tall, blond man, about Severus’ age appeared in the hall.  He was well dressed but rumpled.  His face had more smile lines than frown, although he had clearly been crying.  “I’m sorry to have kept you all waiting.  I’m Maurus.  You must be Severus,” he nodded to Severus without extending his hand, “And Draco, you look very much like your father.  It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”  Draco nodded his greeting.

“This is my boy, Harry,” Severus added.  Maurus smiled warmly at him, and Harry did his best to smile back.

“May I get you something to drink before I show you to Joseph?” Maurus asked.

“Yes,” Lee replied for all of them, “And perhaps you could tell Severus and Draco what you learned from the healers and any other information you think pertinent.”

Maurus nodded politely and led them through to the living room.  He directed the guests to a comfortable sitting area, getting their drink preferences before making his way to the kitchen.  Harry, on his best behavior, followed after asking permission to help.  Once safely away in the kitchen Maurus looked warmly across the room toward Harry and, taking in his dejected countenance, asked, “Are you okay?”

Harry paused for a moment, shocked that it was that obvious, ashamed that Maurus, whose master of 20 years was slowly dying in the next room, felt the need to tend to _his_ out of control emotions, and then, throat and eyes burning as he tried to hold back, Harry started crying.  Not a dignified, polite sort of cry, either.  A snot-faced, red eyed, messy kind of cry.  A totally inappropriate cry to have in front of a complete stranger

He opened his eyes when something dry and soft was slipped into his hand to find a handkerchief.  “Its clean, I promise, just wrinkled,” came Maurus’ warm voice, his hand on Harry’s shoulder.  Slowly, Harry pulled himself back together.  Once he was done, Maurus patted him once on the back and began quickly moving about the kitchen pulling together a charcuterie board and drinks. 

“I’m sorry, Maurus.  We just met and here I am ruining your handkerchief,” Harry tried to laugh at himself but it came out strained.

“Don’t worry, Harry, we all have rough days.  I know it’s not my business, but is it something with your dom?  The tension between you two is thick enough to cut with a knife.”

“Yeah, and totally my fault, too,” Harry admitted, “I’m not sure there’s any fixing it.”

“He doesn’t seem like the tolerant type,” Maurus sympathized.

“Oh, he’s tolerant… More tolerant than you would think by looking at him.”

“So, what makes you think it can’t be fixed?”

“I just crossed so many lines tonight.”

Maurus put the finishing touches on the tray. “Time to go back out there.  Clean up your face?”  Harry pointed his wand at his face and cast.  As he handed Harry a couple of glasses to carry, Maurus added gently, “I don’t think he’s done with you yet.”

“Why?”

“Well, if he were done with you he wouldn’t have brought you tonight.  He would have left you at home.  Just go out of your way to be a good boy, and all this will hopefully blow over.”

Harry sighed deeply, grateful that the response wasn’t, “He wouldn’t get rid of the Destroyer of Voldemort,” and they went out to serve drinks.

 

+++++++++++++++++

They spoke for a good half hour, Maurus sitting comfortably on the floor as he passed on what he had been told by the Aurors and healers.  The curse had first appeared in neo-Death Eater attacks a couple of years before, and so the healers had some idea of what to expect: slow wasting over the period of a year or so.  It started by leeching away magic, then transitioned to physical wasting.  Some regained consciousness, but even then were never lucid.    They didn’t know what the curse was or how it worked.  There was no known countercurse.  Maurus looked like he was about to start crying again by the time he was done with his recitation. 

Finally, drinks were done and they proceeded to the sick room.  The smell as they walked through the door was overwhelming, and Harry swallowed back vomit.  Draco looked pale.  Severus and Lee convincingly pretended not to smell anything.  Maurus did not appear particularly affected and walked across the room where he kissed his Master’s feet.  He looked back at his guests to say, “Sorry, I think I need to clean him up a bit before we continue.  Would you like to go back to the sitting room?”

Severus volunteered Harry to help out before leaving with the others. 

“Could you hover him?” Maurus asked.

Harry agreed, then levitated Joseph.  Maurus swapped out the underpad before wiping the stool off his master’s bottom, then glanced back at Harry and said, “Would you mind hovering him a little longer?  It’s really hard for me to change his sheets without a second pair of hands.”

“Umm… sure,”  Harry said, before adding uncomfortably, “Do you…  I mean, are you… I mean, I notice this place is set up for a Muggle.”

“I’m not a Muggle, but I might as well be,” Maurus said without offense as he continued working, “Before I became a slave, I was a Prewitt.  I have a little magic, but not enough to go to Hogwarts or live as a wizard.  My parents hired tutors for me.  I learned what little magic I could manage and mostly studied for my Muggle exams.  Anyway, hovering Master is a bit beyond me.  I have to roll him around from side to side without magic and try to get the sheets out from under him then a new set in,” He smiled up at Harry, adding, “Much easier this way.  Thank you.  Are you able to cast a freshening charm to get the smell out?  I know it would bother him, the smell, but I can’t get rid of it.”

“Happy to,” Harry replied, “I don’t know how you do it.  Stand the smell, I mean.  I’m back here and it’s bad, and you’re right in there.”

Maurus chuckled a little, “Oh, honey.  I’ve eaten his shit.  Nothing about Master could offend me.”

Harry gulped.  “So… you’re into that?”

“Not really, but Master liked me to do it from time to time.  Or clean his ass with my tongue after he shat.”

“And so you just… did it?  I’m not sure I’d do that even if Severus or Draco wanted me to.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Maurus replied, amused at how squicked Harry was, “But you’re a boy.  Boys get to pick and choose more -- hard limits, soft limits, all that.  Master/slave is a different dynamic.  Early in our relationship I did some picking and choosing, but the point of being a slave is that over time you align your will with your Master’s, as trust builds and the dynamic strengthens.  It was very meaningful when I got to the point with my submission that I would eat his shit.”  Maurus smiled at the memory.

Harry remembered that he was supposed to be casting a freshening charm and, after asking permission, added in a gentle cleaning charm he remembered Madam Pomphrey using back in the day.  “Ummm…. If you don’t mind my asking, Maurus?  Out of curiosity?”

“Yes?”

“What does it taste like?”

Maurus chuckled warmly again, “Once you get over the smell, it doesn’t taste like much.  Burnt, bitter maybe.  Depends on what Master has eaten.”

++++++++++++++++++

An hour later Draco, Severus, and Harry flooed back to Severus’ quarters.  Harry missed Maurus’ reassuring company the second he stepped from the floo.  Draco and Severus had exhausted themselves trying to figure out what was wrong with Joseph.  Draco thought he might have a few ideas for next steps and planned on going to Malfoy Manner over the next couple of days to research the matter further.  Draco and Severus settled comfortably on a loveseat and, after a few awkward minutes not knowing what to do, Harry asked if either wanted a nightcap.  They both accepted, and so while they talked, Harry busied himself pouring firewhisky for Severus and bourbon for Draco.  As he poured out the liquor and served it, his stomach was in knots.  Nothing was settled.  He had not been punished.  They had not even discussed what had happened.  He dreaded going to bed, waking up, and going to work with everything hanging over his head.  He needed to hear that Severus wasn’t taking his collar back.

_Just be a good boy and it will blow over._  He repeated Maurus’ words to himself like a mantra.  He wanted to interrupt the conversation and get them to talk about his behavior, but knew it was the wrong thing to do.  _Just be a good boy_.  _Just be a good boy._   After a moment, he knelt silently on the floor between Draco and Severus, head down.  _Just be a good boy.  It will blow over.  Just be a good boy.  It will blow over._

“I could sense a darkening around the edges of his magic,” Draco said, “I think I read once about a curse that…”

_Just be a good boy.  It will blow over.  Just be a good boy._

“Interesting.  I hadn’t felt Joseph’s magic before today, so I don’t know if things have changed.  We’ll have to evaluate over time,” Severus’ voice floated above him.

_Just be a good boy.  A good boy doesn’t interrupt.  It will blow over.  It will blow over.  Just be a good boy.  Stay quiet._   Harry felt something dripping down his hand before he realized he had dug his nails in so hard he was probably bleeding.  Or was it sweat?  He didn’t want to move to check.  _Just be a good boy.  It will blow over.  Just be a good boy._   His head started to throb with the anxiety.  He felt dizzy and a little nauseous.  _Just be a good boy._

“… processes whereby our magic repairs itself over time stop working…”

_Be a good boy.  Be a good boy._   The glasses were set down on the side tables, and Harry felt Severus lean back onto the sofa.  _It will blow over.  It will blow over._

“… results in the darkening we were feeling…”

_Be a good boy.  Don’t interrupt.  It will blow over_.  His shoulders ached with the tension.

Harry felt Severus card his fingers gently through his hair.  _It will be okay.  It will blow over._  Harry leaned into Severus’ thigh.  Warm, silent tears ran down his face and soaked into Severus’ robe.

“Don’t worry, Harry, it will be okay.  It’s too late tonight to deal with this, and this will be a busy week.  We’ll talk about it on Saturday.”  It took a moment before he realized Severus was talking to him.  _It will be okay.  Be a good boy._

“Thank you, sir.”  _That’s what a good boy says.  Follow the script.  Be a good boy.  It will blow over.  It will be okay._   Suddenly, Harry’s head shot up.  Five days of waiting!  Severus caught his look and raised an eyebrow.  _Be a good boy.  Be a good boy.  Don’t complain about the wait.  Defer.  Be a good boy._

“Ummm… Sir?”  Harry started.

Draco nudged him with his toe, assuming he was going to argue the timing.  Severus’ face hardened, assuming the same thing.  Harry’s drama had exhausted them both.  

“May I please go to help Maurus this week?” Harry continued, “He has very little magic, and its difficult for him to lift Joseph to clean him and such.”  _Be a good boy.  Be a good boy.  Don’t try to get him to address punishment now.  Follow the script.  Be a good boy._

Severus’ face softened to something like pride, and Draco’s softened in what looked like relief.  “Yes, that would be appropriate.  Make sure you owl him first to ensure that he actually wants your help and your company, and to arrange times most convenient for him.”

“Thank you, sir.”  At least he wouldn’t have to hang out with Severus and Draco every evening while in the dog house.  _Be a good boy.  It will blow over._ Finally believing it, Harry relaxed into Severus leg.


	5. Paying the Piper

Harry woke up early Tuesday on the sofa, where he had spent the night.  He had been exiled from the bedroom after he put his pajamas on the night before.  He had a hard time sleeping, at first because of Severus and Draco’s rather loud sex, then because he was jealous he wasn’t included, and then because he was anxious he would never be included again.  When he finally fell asleep, he dreamt about neo Death Eaters killing the entire Weasley family because he tried to solve the case himself.  He woke up in a cold sweat, still gasping at the image of Ron’s mutilated body hanging from one of the Burrow’s second story windows.  When he finally slept again he dreamt that Severus took back his collar and he wound up serving Lavender wearing a pink and purple chain with a glittering day glow orange lock.  He begged Lavender to release him, but she told him he had killed her Won-Won and owed her ‘a life for a life’. 

Nauseated and unable to completely drive the nightmare images from his mind, Harry decided to take a shower.  The men weren’t up yet, so he went to the shower in the work room.  The work room was what in some homes would be called the dungeon, however since their whole home was in the dungeons the couldn’t call it that.  Severus disliked ‘play room’, because it wasn’t play they did there.  Even their most playful sessions were a dramatic working out of their relationship and humanity.  Hence, work room.

 The work room’s walls were painted a dull, nonreflective black.  The floor was poured cement, had a drain in the center and was in large part covered with rubber sheeting.  Along the walls were shelves and drawers, as well as hooks.  From the hooks hung a wide selection of canes, floggers, and straps.  The shelves held dildoes, butt plugs, neatly folded ropes, coiled chains, as well as a wide variety of cuffs.  Smaller things were kept in the drawers – quick release snaps, carabiners, candles and the like.  At various points along the walls, ceiling, and floor there were eyebolts.  Bisecting the ceiling was an I-beam which left a gap between the ceiling and its top.  On the eye beam were several hard points, which could be completely inspected top and bottom, and were used for full suspension.  Light came from overhead spotlights which could be dimmed or turned off, as well as floor lighting.  There was very little furniture in the room – a queen size bed with a black leather cover against one wall, a spanking bench, a ladder leaned against another wall, and a heavy chain which ran from the I beam to the floor.

To the right of the door was a set of shelves, and out of habit Harry stripped his pajamas off there and neatly folded them, putting his slippers on the lowest shelf.  He had never worn clothes past this point in the room, although Severus usually kept some clothing on and Draco sometimes did depending on the role he was playing any given evening.  The room was kept warmer than the rest of the quarters so that a naked boy wouldn’t be too cold.  Nonetheless, Harry felt a chill run down his spine when he came through here.  This was the place where the psychodrama of their lives was incarnated, and it was rare he went into this room for something so casual as his morning shower.

The shower was tucked beyond a barely visible door in the far corner of the room.  Harry quickly showered and shaved his morning stubble before drying himself with a charm.  He hummed a morning sort of tune as he walked toward the door.  He got about halfway through the room when Severus stalked through the door.  Harry froze.  Severus outside the work room was intimidating, but in this space he seemed taller, darker, even more imposing.  A dangerous energy projected from his eyes, and his black robes seemed to stir slightly with the magic pouring off his skin.  Harry stared, eyes wide, for several beats before remembering who he was, where he was, who was in front of him, and what was expected.

If outside the work room the three men were generally casual, inside the work room the niceties were observed.  Harry recovered himself, dropped gracefully to his knees, hands behind his back, head bowed slightly, eyes down.  Severus walked forward slowly until his boots were in Harry’s line of vision.  A distant part of Harry’s brain recognized the midcalf black Wesco Boss boots as he crouched to kiss first one, then the other.  The same part of his brain realized that these were not his normal daytime boots, that Severus must have put them on specifically to meet Harry in this room.  The enticing smell of boot oil made him want to rub his cheek against them, but he pulled himself back to his high kneel without lingering and began chanting to himself: _Be a good boy.  It will blow over.  Be a good boy._ He was unsure what Severus intended; clearly he had dressed specifically to come here, but was he going to be punished now?  Or was pleasure on the menu?  Severus stood silently over Harry for long minutes, waiting for a sign unknown to Harry, before walking past him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Come, kneel here,” Severus ordered, pointing to the floor between his knees.  Harry crawled over and resumed his high kneel.  “Go ahead and rest your ass on your heels, boy.  We’re going to be here for a while.”

“Yes, Sir.  Thank you, Sir,”  Harry tried to get himself into a submissive mindset and let Severus lead.

“I said we would wait until Saturday to talk, however you were awake quite early as was I, and I thought we might clear the air sooner if you are ready.  If not, we can wait until Saturday.  You will have a fair amount of answering to do for your behavior last night.  If you feel you have not adequately considered our relationship, your role, and whether you want to continue in that role, I suggest you ask to wait – it will be without prejudice.”

“Sir, I would rather talk about it now, sir.”  He wanted desperately to pour out his heart in apology but knew to be silent until he was asked.  _Be a good boy._   _It will blow over._

“You came home last night and Draco gave a direct, if polite, order not to drink any liquor.  Did you understand the order?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who gave it to you?”

“Draco, sir.”

“And did you not agree, when you accepted my collar, that you would obey Draco’s orders as long as they were safe, legal, ethical, and did not contradict any order of mine?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Was his order safe, legal, and ethical?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Any conflict with some order of mine as you understood them?”

“No, sir,” _God, he knows how to drag this out_ , Harry thought to himself.

“Then explain yourself, boy,” Severus growled.

“I…” Harry started to explain the day at work before stopping and realizing that nothing that happened at work would excuse his behavior.  He started again, “I’m sorry, sir.  I don’t have any explanation that would excuse my behavior, sir.”

“Then give me an explanation that will allow me to understand _what the hell you were thinking_ , boy.  I don’t know how it could have even entered your head to speak to Draco the way you did.”

“I had a bad day at work, sir,” Harry blushed and clenched his fists behind his back, “I was told that I wasn’t being given assignments because people were intimidated by my reputation as the Chosen One, and because I had a reputation for not obeying orders and getting people hurt, sir.  I had hoped to be part of the team investigating the neo Death Eater attack in Diagon Alley where Joseph got hurt, sir, but I’m pretty much assigned only desk work these days.  Then they made me go to Diagon Alley to pretend that I was on the investigation for the papers, sir.  I had really been looking forward to a drink when I got home, sir, and forgot my place when I got here.  I’m sorry, sir.”  _I’m totally fucked_ , Harry thought to himself, _and not in a good way._

“Not an excuse, but I think I understand what happened.  Lets go on, although we will need to address your attitude at work another time.  You then proceeded to defy me when I added my order to Draco’s and told me… us… that you ‘weren’t in the mood.’  Perhaps you could explain what you think mood has to do with obedience?”

“No, sir.  I can’t explain, sir.  I was wrong, sir.”

“Stop blathering,” Severus interrupted, “Then you resisted a spanking.  Did you think I was going to harm you?”

“No, sir,” there were tears in Harry’s eyes now.  He was grateful for the resting kneel he had been allowed, although his knees were hurting from the hard cement and his feet were falling asleep. 

“Do you agree that you have given me the authority to spank you?”

“Yes, sir.  I was out of control, sir.  I’m sorry, sir.”

“So I had to petrify you to get you back under control.  I was going to have Draco strap you, however you told him to fuck himself.  Any explanation?”

“No, sir, other than that I was out of control, sir.”

Severus contemplated Harry for a long while before continuing.  “This lack of emotional control and obedience is affecting you at work, too, from what you are telling me.  Tell me, Harry, what you want.  It would be easy enough for you to find a relationship where you do not need to obey orders.  You can get a job where you do not need to obey orders.  I wonder if you wouldn’t prefer that.”

“No, sir.  I want you and Draco, sir, and our relationship.”

“Explain why.”

“Sir, for my entire life I have wanted to be the trusted lieutenant, the loyal knight.  I’ve wanted to give my whole self to someone who would accept my offering, use me, and cherish me in return, sir.  I wasn’t angry at Dumbledore because he used me… I want to be used, sir.  I was angry because he didn’t trust me, sir.  He didn’t allow me to offer myself, he manipulated me into it, sir.  He stole what I would have freely given, sir.  Despite how badly I need to give my whole self to another, I don’t want to throw myself at just anyone’s feet – it has to be someone worthy of … well … me, sir.  You, sir, are that.  And you accepted my offering, and you cherish me and care for me, sir.  I am still honored to wear your collar, even if I continually forget myself, sir.  I’ll accept any punishment, sir, any conditions.  But please don’t kick me out, sir.”

“That all sounds well and good but explain to me how your disobedience fits in to all of this.”

Harry didn’t say anything for a long while, and Severus waited patiently for him to compose his thoughts. Finally, he said quietly, “It doesn’t, sir.  I’m…. I’m really bad at remembering to obey when I’m not in the right mood, sir.”

Severus sighed.  He believed that Harry wanted to be obedient when he was calm ( _or_ , Severus amended, _in deep shit._ ).  He wasn’t sure that beating him would help Harry remember his place the next time he was angry or stressed.  A plan began to form in his mind as the minutes passed.  Harry, for his part, was exhausted from his heartfelt apology, and tense from not knowing if it was accepted. 

Severus stood up and took down a well-worn, 18 inch strap from its hook.  He sat back on the bed, his thighs again on either side of Harry, casually holding the heavy, black leather between his hands.  Harry, knowing his part, bent forward and kissed the heavy, black leather.  He knew this strap.  The first time Severus had used it on him he had explained that slaves in the American South were generally not whipped back in the day, movies notwithstanding. They were strapped.  Strapping could cause severe pain with a far lower risk of permanently damaged property than whipping.  And Severus was a master at causing severe pain.  Notwithstanding the severity of the beating he expected, a part of Harry was relieved to see the strap.  Severus wouldn’t bother if he were losing his collar today.

“Ask for it, Harry, if this is what you want,” Severus ordered.

“S-s-sir,” Harry stuttered through his dry mouth, closing his eyes, “Please strap me so I remember to obey you.”

“Go put on wrist and ankle cuffs, and lie on your front on the bed.”

Harry quickly rose, or tried to, but his legs had gone numb and he stumbled.  Severus caught him and physically directed him to the bed before getting the cuffs himself.  Harry’s cuffs were heavy black leather with red stitching (Draco’s, of course, had green stitching) and locking buckles.  The edges were nicely beveled, and the cuffs were wide – 2 ½ inches for the wrist cuffs, and 3 inches for the ankles – to protect Harry if he struggled against them.  Harry docilly offered first his hands, then his feet to Severus, who methodically applied them, not bothering to lock them, before tying Harry face down on the bed in a tight spread eagle. 

Harry heard the rustle of fabric as Severus stripped down to his trousers and boots, then Severus’ footsteps as he positioned himself next to the bed.  Severus dragged the leather across Harry’s back to let him know he was there, and watched as Harry’s back tensed in readiness for the blow.  “Count, thank me for each one, and ask me for the next, Harry.”

“Please strap me, sir.”  Harry saw Severus move out of the corner of his eye, and then felt the blow land in a fiery line on his upper back.  The force of the blow knocked the wind out of him, and at first his scream was silent.  Finally, he gasped in some air, and continued his scream full throated.  He didn’t think he had ever been strapped so hard in his life.  He wondered if he was bleeding as waited for the next blow.  Then he remembered… “One, sir. [gasp] Thank you, sir.  [gasp] May I have another, sir,” This blow landed immediately below the last in another fiery line, again knocking the wind out of him and triggering another scream.  “Two, sir.  [gasp] Thank you, sir.  [gasp] May I have another, sir,” Harry cried.  The ritual was repeated eight more times as Severus methodically worked his way down Harry’s upper back, stopping just above the kidneys.  Covered in sweat, his arm sore, Severus set down the strap and pulled a bottle of water out of a cabinet charmed cool.   He drank deeply himself before putting the bottle to Harry’s lips. 

He returned the water bottle to the cooling cabinet, then took out a finger of ginger and peeled it with a knife.  He then carved the base to make a ridge.  He then cut a narrow sliver from a second piece of ginger, about 1 inch long.  Severus came back to the bed and put his finger against Harry’s lips.  Harry suckled on it, twirling his tongue around the tip until Severus removed it.  Harry moaned as Severus forced his spit-slicked finger into his ass.  Harry pushed back a bit and Severus slapped his ass hard.  It was not the time or the place for initiative.  Judging him sufficiently open to take the ginger, Severus pushed it in until the ridge he had carved was set at the sphincter.  He then reached through to Harry’s cock and put the small sliver into the piss slit, drawing another moan out of Harry.

It took only a minute for the ginger to heat up, and soon Harry was sweating and panting into mattress, squirming against his restraints.  While Harry enjoyed having his ass figged as much as the next masochist, the pain in his cock was nearly unbearable.  It continued to blossom as Severus took up his position again, strap dangling from his right hand.  “Ask,” he ordered.

“Sir,” Harry begged.  He wanted to beg for Severus to get the ginger out, but instead he begged, “Please strap me.”

Again, Harry saw the flash of movement from the corner of his eye, and felt the fiery line, this time on his ass.  When he clenched against the pain from the strap, the pain from the ginger bloomed again.  He screamed, then cried, “Eleven, sir.  [gasp]  Thank you, sir. [gasp] May I have another, sir. [sob].”  Severus continued to work methodically down Harry’s body, until he reached the calves just above the ankles.  By mid-thigh, Harry had stopped struggling against the restraints.  By the time Severus reached his upper calves, Harry had been reduced to screaming and sobbing, unable to count.

The work completed, Severus laid the strap down, and sat on the bed to run his fingers through Harry’s hair.  “Just a few abrasions, Harry.  Let’s get that ginger out and I’ll clean you up.”

Harry sniffled into the mattress as Severus poured Betadine onto a swab and dabbed it gently onto any breaks in the skin.  He then put some bandages on.  Despite Harry’s sense that he had been beaten bloody, only a couple of band-aids were needed.  Severus took the cuffs off and laid them aside – Harry would clean them and put them away later.  He wiped Harry’s face gently with a warm wash cloth to get rid of the snot, tears and drool.  Harry accepted his ministrations docilely, curling gingerly onto his side to give Severus better access to his face.

“There, all done.  Judging by the sound of his footsteps, Draco’s been standing outside and no doubt requires assurance that the cessation of your screaming does not imply your death.  Thank me, and then we can let him in.”

“Thank you, sir, for correcting me,” Harry said, his voice hoarse but sincere.  Severus ruffled his hair affectionately, then wandlessly opened the door. 

Severus gathered his clothing over his arm before walking out, leaving Harry to Draco.

“Merlin, Harry.  Do you know how hard it is to just stand there when you’re being strapped?  I could hear everything.  Don’t _ever_ do anything like this again!”  Harry looked up at his partner’s genuine concern.

“I’m sorry, Draco, that I spoke to you the way I did.  You didn’t deserve it.”

“Damn straight I didn’t.  And you _did_ deserve this.  But, Merlin, Harry… you look awful.  Can you take the day off work?”

“Something tells me Severus wouldn’t like that,” Harry groaned.

“Well, at least let me lick your wounds for you,” Draco said with mock seriousness before licking a wide swath across the top of Harry’s back.  It felt like a million bee stings, but Harry laughed anyway, with a slight edge of hysteria as Draco licked his way from the top of Harry’s back to the top of the kidney region, then moved down his ankles and started licking up toward Harry’s pert ass.  Soon, Harry was begging for something more.  Finally done licking Harry’s stripes, Draco tongued down his crack until he found Harry’s pucker.  He teased the tissue around Harry’s hole, tasting musk, sweat, and … ginger?

“Harry, you taste like a stir fry!” Draco yelped in surprise.

“Try around front – same flavor,” Harry quipped, smiling for the first time.

Severus voice came from the doorway, rich and dark,  “Don’t. Even. Think about it.  Draco, this is supposed to be a punishment!”  Despite how firm his voice was, the corners of his lips twitched a bit at his boys’ shenanigans.


	6. A View from Inside the Kink Closet

Draco returned to the work room with an apologetic look on his face.  He had stepped out to ask about Harry staying home.  Hell, he wouldn’t have been able to _stand_ after getting worked over like that.  “Severus said you should go to work today.”

“Yes, sir, I figured.  I guess it’s hard to convince someone who regularly taught a full day’s classes after being worked over by Voldemort that I need the day off after a strapping.”

“Yeah, guess so,” Draco chuckled.  He moved to help Harry to his feet, “Can you stand?”  It took a minute of sitting on the edge of the bed before Harry was ready to stand, but he was steady once he was up.  Draco pulled him into a deep, tender kiss before releasing him to get ready for work.  “You look like shit.  You had better come up with an explanation that doesn’t involve Severus torturing the Golden Boy.”

They walked together to the bedroom, where Severus was just getting out of the shower.  He affectionately tousled Harry’s hair as they passed then rushed to get himself ready for work, leaving the shower for Harry.

Harry took a lukewarm shower then carefully dressed in his uniform.  He winced as he slowly pulled the rough wool trousers over his recently worked over ass and legs.  He thought about going out to ask for an exception to the no underwear rule, and even got to the point in planning where he decided to ask Draco rather than Severus (more likely to grant his request), when he realized that he would have to walk an extra 20 yards to ask and decided against the unnecessary exertion.  He was exhausted.  He pulled on his shirt which was, thankfully, soft cotton, then put the scarlet open robe over it all.  Noticing his bloodshot eyes and pallor in the mirror, he cast a glamor before leaving the bathroom.  Finally, he pulled on his boots and flooed to the ministry.

 

++++++++++++++

“Hey, mate!” Ron shouted as he crossed the room and slapped Harry on the back.  Harry grimaced.  “What’s wrong, mate?” Ron asked with concern.

“Nothing… er… I set the shower too hot and burned myself,” Harry stammered.

“You burned yourself in the shower.” Ron repeated incredulously. 

Harry felt bad about lying to his oldest friend, but there was no way around it.  Harry grinned weakly, “That’ll teach me not to pay attention when setting the temperature!”

Sighing, Harry made his way to his office.  He wrote a quick letter to Maurus asking if he could be of help later, then turned to his work.  _I guess if I’m going to be a paper-pusher, I might as well be a good one_. 

Three hours passed quickly as Harry read reports and wrote memos, added figures and drew graphs.  Finally, he couldn’t bear to sit on his ass anymore, and shifted to lay face down on the sofa.  He was just dozing off when Ron let himself in.  “Hey, mate, you coming out for lunch?  A bunch of us are headed for the Leaky Cauldron.”

“Nah, I’m not hungry.  Lots to do here, you know.”

“Ah, right,” Ron said, looking around the office before settling his eyes back on Harry’s prone form.  “I can heal your burn for you if you like,” he offered as though fishing for something.

“Oh, no thanks.  Its fine.  Prefer to let it heal naturally.  I’ve heard spells can…. Er… cause long term resistance to future healing.  Best to let the body heal itself, I always say!”  . _Let the body heal itself!_   Harry screamed at himself _Could you come up with a more absurd reason?_

“Sure, mate, whatever you say.  Let me know if you change your mind,” Ron paused as though to say something else, then sighed and let himself out.

Harry was hurt by Ron’s hurt.  Ron was his first real friend.  But how can friendship survive keeping who you are a secret?  Over the past five years the heart and soul of their friendship had bled away, leaving only the outer form – a slap on the back here, a lunch invitation there.  When Harry first got involved with Draco and Severus, he was as open as he could be with Ron.  Ron was accepting.  Being gay wasn’t a big deal.  Being in a long-term relationship with _two_ rather than one other person was a bit of a deal, but Ron was able to overlook it for the sake of their friendship.  Who he was involved with was a shock, but Ron got over that, too.  But how would Ron accept the other stuff?  Could he get over that?  That Harry liked being put on his knees, his arms bound tightly behind him while a cock was shoved roughly into his mouth?  That Harry felt most himself groveling at another man’s feet for hours, wet with his piss?  That Harry reached the heights of ecstasy by having a hundred clothespins placed over his chest, thighs, and cock before being ripped off?  That their idea of a good evening was an extended flogging followed by a rough fuck?  And even if he could accept all the bedroom stuff, could he accept that Harry voluntarily took orders from Severus and Draco in daily life?  That kneeling at Severus’ or Draco’s feet was something he did outside the bedroom?

Surely not. 

Maybe not. 

Possibly Ron could take all that, but if Harry told him and Ron couldn’t take it, could Harry take losing his first friend? 

Surely not. 

How would he even start?  “So, I know you knew I was lying about my back.  Truth is, Severus strapped me because I was disrespectful to Draco the other night when Draco ordered me not to have a drink.”

Surely not.

+++++++++++++++++++

 

Harry thought back to the time when he first realized he was different.  Not just gay different, but masochist/submissive different.  He had been a masochist for as long as he could remember.  Even before he was a sexual being, he processed pain differently.  Some pain he perceived as an intense sensation that could be transmuted to pleasure.  He purposely sought out that kind of pain even before Hogwarts – walking in the snow with no shoes on, playing rugby on the playground so he could be hit, letting anther boy tie him to a chair and shove it over as part of a cops and robbers interrogation.  He learned about slavery at school and imagined himself being whipped.  He had only to look up the word ‘torture’ in the dictionary to feel his face flush. 

At some point he picked up the first undercurrents of adult disapproval and so began to be discrete.  No more games with the other boys or walking in the snow.  He even stopped playing rugby, worried that somehow they could tell he wasn’t playing for the same reason as the other kids.  In his mind, however, his fantasies became ever more complex and fleshed out.

After he went to Hogwarts, his fantasies became sexual.  While some of the boys talked about sex with girls and others talked about sex with guys, no one talked about being turned on by a picture of a whip, a pair of handcuffs, Dehner black leather patrol boots. 

He fantasized about a stern, dark figure backhanding him, beating him with his belt, gagging him, blindfolding him, fucking him.  Those were the fantasies he was most afraid Snape would find during his occlumency lessons – but whether he never saw them, or never commented Harry wasn’t sure.  He often wondered what would have happened if Severus had seen them and said something.  Would he have found home any sooner?

Eventually he defeated Voldemort and finished at Hogwarts.  He was ~~lost and on his own~~ free.  He went to London and there, in the anonymity of the busy metropolis, wandered into a dingy bookstore and found _Carried Away_ by david stein.  He still remembered reading it that first time.  He read half the book standing under the flickering fluorescent light in the middle of the bookstore, stopping only when the proprietor told him he needed to buy something or move on, preferably buy something _and_ move on. 

It was a delectable evening.  The book made him hard.  More importantly, he knew he wasn’t the only one.  If he could just get to New York he could find the others.  He laughed now to think how naïve he was.  The idea that people like him only existed across the Atlantic was now hilarious.  It turned out people like him were no farther away than Hogwarts. 

But he didn’t know that then.  He went to New York and passed as a Muggle.  He tried to find the Mineshaft, only be told it had closed in the 80s and they wouldn’t have let him in anyway.  The elderly bookstore clerk who told him this laughed but, seeing his hurt, relented and directed him to the Eagle NYC, “Not exactly Mineshaft,” he commented at Harry’s thanks.  Harry pulled together his courage and went.  He found his people in that crowded bar.  Literally.  He had travelled across the Atlantic only to run into Draco and Severus.

It was late October, and so while the rest of the dark-lit bar was crowded and getting more so, the crowd on the roof was thin and, he was later to find out, mostly wizards who could cast a warming charm.  He had already been at the bar for a couple of hours before he found his way up there.  By that point he was pleasantly tipsy.  Harry grinned into the back of the sofa as he remembered the panic he felt at seeing the two, clearly a couple, drinking their Muggle beer on that roof.  As Harry stood with his jaw somewhere near his ankles, Draco turned and, spotting him, elbowed Severus.  Severus turned and locked eyes with Harry.  It was all Harry could do to keep from dropping to his knees.  Instead, he tripped and fell flat on his face.  From such beginnings…

Harry’s reminiscing was interrupted by Joseph’s owl, “Yes, please come.  After work when you can.  –Thanks, maurus.” 

Harry settled back at his desk, trying to find a comfortable way to sit.  In the end, he knelt on his chair, which both kept his butt of the chair, and allowed him to put weight on his forearms as he leaned forward.  Finishing one project, he opened his next assignment. 

 _Thank Merlin!  Finally, I get something from the Diagon Alley case!_   Not as exciting as field work, but he settled in to collating the various stories that Jackson’s team had compiled.  He teared up a bit as he read about the family who had been cursed – mom, dad, and their 7 year old son.  He wondered who was taking care of them?  Did they have other family, or were nurses coming by and visiting?  He thought back to Maurus and all the hard work he was doing – would Joseph do the same if Maurus was hurt?  Would Severus and Draco take care of him if he were cursed?  He tried to imagine Draco wiping his butt, but couldn’t really.  Would he take care of Severus and Draco?  He liked to think he would, but … well, it hadn’t escaped him that he could be flaky.  Sure, he would rush in with the best of intentions on day one, but a year later would he still be wiping asses?  Was it possible to learn to be reliable?  He did _want_ to be the sort of person who would be there a year later.

Sighing, he settled back to work, flipping through several hundred pages of reports.  He decided to start by reading through the entire pile, then try to figure out a meaningful way to organize it.

“Why the hell is _Potter_ on my case!” Harry heard Jackson’s angry voice echoing down the hall.

“He’s just on the paperwork, collating testimonies and evidence.  No danger there, just paperwork,” Ron’s voice soothed.

“I don’t want him anywhere near me, my team, or the case.  He’s a world class fuckup, and I don’t want him fucking this up.”

“I’m not in charge of that sort of thing.  Talk to Robards if you want it changed.  I’m just saying you might want to save your objections for when something really matters, Jackson.”

Harry put up a silencing charm so he didn’t have to listen to the rest of the conversation.


	7. Playtime

By the end of the day, Harry was ready to be done.  As he was tidying his desk, Draco’s mottled tawny and brown eagle owl flew through his office door.  The message on his leg was short. 

> _If you are up for something rough, be sure to arrive home douched and lubed.  If not, and I’ll understand, just send back a “no” and I’ll find another way to entertain Severus… he’s in quite a mood today.  I won’t tell you everything about my plan, but I do know you aren’t over your strapping earlier and plan to use that to my advantage.  – Draco_

Harry thought for a minute.  He wasn’t sure he was up for anything rough.  He wondered what Draco had in mind.  _Well… only one way to find out, huh?  And it’ll get my mind off this shit._   He glanced around his office. 

> _I’m real sore still and pretty well bruised, but yeah I’m good for it.  I’ll be home in couple of hours.  I promised Maurus I would help out this evening._  – _Harry_

With that, he walked quickly out of his office, excited already about this evening’s adventure.  Draco always planned the best scenes. 

As he stepped out of the floo at Joseph’s, Maurus looked up with a big smile.  “For you, I think,” he smirked, clearly having already read the note he held out to Harry.  It had neither been folded nor sealed before being sent.

> _Good.  All you need to do is suffer for me. -- Draco_

“Looks like someone is going to have fun tonight,” Maurus smirk grew broader as Harry flushed and hardened in response to the missive.

“First things first.  How can I help?”  Harry tried to bring his mind back to the present.

“Can you help me give him a real bath?  He hasn’t had one since he was cursed, and there’s only so much a sponge bath can do. Hover him over to the tub so I can wash him?”

“Sure!  No problem.”

Maurus and Harry worked quickly, Harry hovering Joseph over once Maurus had drawn a bath.  It was awkward giving a bath to someone who was completely limp, so Harry stripped off his shirt and held Joseph’s head out of the water while Maurus, also shirtless, did the washing.  After a few minutes Maurus asked about the marks on Harry’s back.  Harry explained without going into great detail that he had been punished for what he had done that was causing all the tension the night before.

“Uhhh… Not to intrude… I know we don’t know each other very well, but are you sure you are going to be okay playing again tonight?  That looks pretty rough,” Maurus looked up from his washing to meet Harry’s eyes, clearly worried he had caused offense.

“Oh, I think it will be okay.  Draco cleaned me up after my strapping, so he knows what was done.  And Severus did it, so he obviously knows.  They’re rough but responsible,” Harry said without offense.

“Just making sure.  And anyway, you can safeword if…” Maurus interrupted his own light tone, adding more seriously, “well, I guess we don’t know each other well at all and I’m making assumptions.  Do you have a safeword when you play?”

Harry hesitated for a moment before replying, using repositioning Joseph as a cover for his pause.  He knew that most people considered it irresponsible to play without a safeword, but he also knew Maurus had been in the lifestyle for a long time so probably knew that some played without safewords.  It was also clear from the way Severus, Lee, and Draco treated him that Maurus, despite being a slave, was very well respected even by dominants in the community. 

 “Well… no.  Not usually,” Harry said, deciding to open up to Maurus.  “I don’t have one for tonight, for example.  Sometimes, usually if it’s just Draco I’m with, he’ll tell me I have a safeword…”  Harry trailed off, seeing Maurus’ expression.  He worried he had said too much.

“Go on.”  Maurus had lost his usual friendly warmth.  He sounded a bit distant, as though trying to withhold judgment until he had all the facts.

Harry didn’t know quite what to say.  He probably shouldn’t have admitted to playing without a safeword, but with Draco and Severus he didn’t feel like he needed one.  Still, it was Rule Number One if you went to a class on What It Is We Do.  If he did try to explain… _Oh, well.  In for a dime, in for a dollar._

“I can see you’re concerned,” Harry started, trying not to sound as defensive as he felt.  Maurus nodded.  “There’s a really good reason we don’t use a safeword.  And I should say, if I were to suddenly yell ‘RED’ or ‘SAFEWORD’ I’m sure both Severus and Draco would stop.  Just, well, when we first got together I was playing a pretty intense scene with Draco… I had a safeword and everything, but by the time I should have used it I was flying so high that I couldn’t think clearly enough to even realize I needed to stop things.  I hurt my shoulder pretty badly.  Severus was furious, first at me for not using the safeword I had, but then when I explained what had happened, he was pissed at Draco for not picking up on how far gone I was and recognizing that I was injured and too deep in subspace to do anything about it.  Anyway, he said that one of the problems with everyone being so safeword happy is that they forget that some subs either can’t or won’t use one.  Anyway, that’s why I’m not allowed to play at parties.  Severus is worried I’ll get hurt.  And Draco and I weren’t allowed to play without Severus supervising for years afterwards, basically until Severus was absolutely sure Draco could read me.”

Maurus spoke slowly and thoughtfully, “I think I understand…  But the reason we use safewords is because a lot more subs have been hurt by not having a safeword than by having one.  Not to state the case too strongly, but part of the whole consent thing, the thing that separates what it is we do from assault, is that you can withdraw consent at any point during any scene.”

Harry’s eyes widened, “You think I’m being _assaulted_?”

“No, honey.  I’m _worried_ you’re being _abused_ ,” Maurus paused, his eyes locked on Harry’s, waiting for his response.

“I’m not being abused,” Harry said definitively.  If he hadn’t known Maurus would have no way of getting Joseph back out of the tub, he might have stormed out.

“No, it doesn’t sound like it,” Maurus admitted.  “Some people think everyone should have a safeword all the time, but you all have a good reason for doing without and have been in a relationship for a long time.  I get it.  But I had to ask.  Well, as much as anyone has to ask,” Maurus smiled warmly again, “I guess perhaps I’m being a bit nosy.”

Harry calmed down.  They finished cleaning Joseph up and, while Harry held him mid-air, Maurus changed the bedding.  Once they had Joseph comfortably settled in, Harry watched Maurus kiss both of Joseph’s feet.  “So,” Harry asked when Maurus finished his ritual, “I heard a rumor that slaves don’t have safewords.”

Maurus chuckled.  “Some slaves do.  I don’t… didn’t….” Maurus teared up and looked over at Joseph, then sighed and looked back at Harry,  “ _don’t_ have a safeword.”

“So, could you withdraw consent at any time?”

“Well, yes, of course.  I just had to say ‘stop’.”

“You never said ‘stop’ when you didn’t mean it?” Harry asked incredulously, “I sometimes beg and say ‘stop’ without meaning to, but it doesn’t mean I want things to stop.”

“Well, if I said ‘stop,’ Joseph would stop and check in.  If I had a good reason we would either stop what we were doing completely, or we would pause and fix things and the continue.  But if I didn’t have a good reason, like my leg cramping in bondage or something, and was taking control of things… and not out of involuntary reflex like the begging you’re describing, but really taking control of things, it would end our relationship.”

“ _That_ sounds like more of a setup for abuse than not having a safeword!”

“You’d think, but not really.  Look, the essence of our dynamic is control, by Joseph, and obedience, by me.  It’s not that Joseph would have kicked me out, it’s that I would have ended the relationship by taking control back away from him.  I would have withdrawn my consent, and he would simply be respecting that change.  I’m sure we would have talked later and gone over things, but I wanted you to understand what people mean when they say a ‘a slave can’t red-out.’  It’s not that we can’t withdraw consent, it’s that the consequences of withdrawing consent are a lot more serious as far as the relationship.”

“Yeah, in that you end up _homeless_!” Harry sounded shocked and a little angry.

“No, I wouldn’t.  While this place belongs to Joseph, and I give all my income to him, Joseph has set up an account for me with a Muggle bank that has only my name on it.  Over the years, from my income, he has saved up enough money to get set up and live comfortably for a year out.  He did it so that if something happened to him or if I decided to leave, I could.  He wanted my submission to him to be completely consensual.  You didn’t get a chance to meet him, but he’s an honorable man, and wouldn’t have been turned on by a slave that didn’t consent  – minute by minute consent.”

“Oh, I get it I guess.  Sorry, that just sounded really scary.”  Harry blushed, realizing he had overstepped his bounds.

“Slavery is pretty scary.  Good for me, but scary at the beginning.”  Maurus started walking Harry to the floo, “Thanks for your help, Harry.  It means a lot to me.  And I’m glad we seem to be looking out for each other.”  Maurus smiled, and Harry returned it.  Harry put his shirt and robe back on, made arrangements for another visit, and, recalling his instructions, cast a wandless and wordless cleansing and lubricating charm.  Thus prepared, Harry stepped into the floo still running his conversation with Maurus through his mind.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As he stepped out of the floo, Harry’s attention snapped back to the present.  Their quarters were completely dark.  In the instant before the green light of the fireplace died, he saw two dark robed figures, features hidden by their hoods, on either side of the room.  _Neo-Death Eaters!_ _Fuck!_

That was all the thinking he had time for before, in the complete darkness, a body slammed into his side bringing him down to the floor and knocking the breath out of him.  He wrestled his arm free from the other man’s weight and started to reach for his wand.  His hand had just brushed the smooth holly when a second pair of hands ripped it away from him.  A slap landed across his face, stunning him momentarily, and he was forced onto his back.  Every one of his bruises sang out their separate agony, which merged before erupting from Harry’s mouth as a full-throated scream.

Screaming and crying, he fought furiously to try to gain space and time to get to Draco and Severus.  He felt his fists land a couple of blows, and heard grunts when they did, but he absorbed far more than he landed.  Just as his rising panic threatened to overwhelm him, he realized that all of the blows were on his pecs, his thighs, his ass, his upper back.  Nothing landed on his head or neck.  Nothing landed on his spine or kidneys.  His hair had been pulled quite forcefully several times, but at no point was it used to slam his head into the floor.  _No neo-Death Eater would take this much care to avoid permanent harm.  Oh!  This is Draco’s scene_ , he thought, suddenly calming a bit.

Sensing him relax a little and guessing that Harry was onto the scene, Draco finally cast _incarcerus_ to immobilize the other man.  Severus landed one more kick to Harry’s ass before backing off.

“If it isn’t Auror Potter, caught off guard,” Draco drawled in his most malicious Death Eater tone. 

“He always was arrogant,” Severus sneered.

_Oh, thank Merlin!_  Harry thought, now sure that Draco and Severus were not only safe from neo-Death Eaters, but running the show he found himself cast in.  “Fuck you, Death Eater scum!”  Harry screamed, feeling like he was acting in a movie.

Someone kicked Harry in the left pec, then stood on it to press him flat on his back.  His bruises once again screamed, as did he.  Another foot started to press slowly down on his cock and balls, and his scream turned into a shriek.  Suddenly the pressure let up, although both feet still ghosted over him, their gentle touch threatening a return of pain.  Harry realized, given how coordinated they were, they must be able to see despite the darkness.  _Oh, a blinding hex.  I can’t see, but they’re probably able to see just fine_.

“We can do this the easy way… or the hard way,” Draco menaced.  Harry, awash in endorphins and adrenalin, started giggling uncontrollably at the B movie villain line.  He heard Severus chuckle above him, and then Draco forced out, also about to give in to giggles, “Laugh while you can, fuckwad.”  Harry felt the foot which had been resting lightly on his shoulder move to his throat, and slowly the pressure was increased.  Harry’s mind flashed unaccountably to Finding Nemo -- _Good feelings gone_. Harry instinctively started to thrash against his bonds.  The foot that had been resting lightly on his cock and balls started to press down again, and Harry froze.  Both feet froze in place also, leaving him able to breath but acutely aware that he might lose that ability at someone’s (he guessed it was Draco up top) whim. 

“I guess it’s the hard way!” Draco announced.

“Good,” Severus pressed down on Harry’s ball sack a little harder, and Harry groaned.

Both feet were soon removed and Harry felt himself levitated and moved through the house, still supine.  He knew they were in the work room when the air temperature suddenly went up.  A few seconds later he was flipped upright and his clothes were roughly cut off as he hovered in midair.  “If you get out of this alive,” Draco commented emotionlessly as he cut, “There won’t be enough left of you to wear this uniform.”  As Draco worked, the cold blade of his knife scraped Harry from time to time.  Harry felt his panic rise, felt himself start to dissociate from his body, when he felt Severus’ warm hand on the back of his neck, steadying him.  _Right, just a game.  Just a game.  Severus and Draco.  Just a game._   He took some deep breaths and found himself back in his body but still panicky. 

Once Draco had gotten the Auror uniform off and moved away, Severus pressed his body against Harry’s – Severus’ chest to Harry’s back, Severus’ erection to Harry’s ass, Severus’ left arm around Harrys belly and his right grabbing Harry’s hair and forcefully pulling his head back against Severus’ shoulder.  Severus’ touch grounded Harry.  The levitation charm was abruptly released, and Harry’s weight was suddenly transferred to Severus’ hold.  They were both breathing hard, and Harry could smell and feel the sweat Severus had worked up while they were fighting earlier.

Severus held him there firmly until Harry completely relaxed from his earlier panic, his still blind eyes closing as he focused on his breathing and let Severus hold his weight.  He didn’t know how long they stayed that way before he felt Draco locking cuffs onto his wrists.  “I guess we should let him see his fate,” Severus said silkily, moving his hand up to play with Harry’s nipples as he spoke.  _He’s looking out for me.  He knows I’ll be less likely to panic if I can see_ , Harry thought.

The blinding hex was released and, even though the work room was only dimly lit with several candles, Harry’s eyes took a minute to adjust to the light.  Finally able to see Draco’s hard, grey eyes and his pale face, set off beautifully by the black velvet of his Death Eater cloak, Harry groaned and shut his eyes again.  He opened them when he felt his cuffs being pulled above his head, high enough that he was forced to his tip-toes.  Severus moved away from him and came around front, a malevolent half-grin on his face.  _Oh, but they are hot_. Harry thought to himself.

As if by prior agreement, the two men turned away from their prey and sat comfortably on the bed, each drinking deeply from a bottle of cold water.  Harry’s mouth was bone dry, but clenched his teeth against the urge to ask for some.  His already battered body groaned under the rigorous but simple bondage.  He tried to find a relaxed position to hang in, experimentally lifting himself on his toes, which relaxed the strain on his shoulders and let him take some deep breaths, but rapidly tired his calves.  He let himself drop back down, only to find he was forced to pant rather than breath as the tension built in his shoulders.  Draco and Severus rested and drank water, wiping their foreheads with a cool cloth as Harry slowly wore down alternating between bearing his weight on his shoulders and his toes.  They seemed amused by his struggles.

“Please,” he finally gasped out, but his voice was unrecognizably horse his tongue stuck to the top of his dry mouth. 

“What was that, Potter?” Severus asked, standing and gliding over from his place on the bed, robes billowing around him.  He walked around to Harry’s back and started to press on one of Harry’s bruises, slowly increasing the pressure.

Harry whimpered.  Severus pressed on a second bruise, then a third.  He pinched and twisted Harry’s already abused skin.

“Water, Potty?” Draco now rose from the bed, bottle in hand.

Harry struggled to push up on his toes again to breath freely, but his right calf cramped hard.  “Fuck, please.”

“Oh, we will,” Severus said mockingly, “Fuck, I mean.”

Draco grabbed Harry’s hair to force his head back, then poured water into his open mouth.  Harry swallowed as much as he could while Draco poured the water over his face, sputtering and coughing when it started to go up his nose.   Already worn down by being unable to breath freely, he started to panic again when the water cut off the remaining air.  He thrashed futilely to escape Draco’s hold.  Finally, the water bottle ran out and Draco let go.  Harry coughed and sputtered while Draco put the water bottle back on the bed, stripping off his robe and shirt while he was there.  Severus continued to work over Harry’s bruises methodically but with only a little force, eliciting whimpers, groans, and gasps.

“You ready to tell us what we want to know, Potty?” Draco sneered when he got back.  Harry recognized this as an invitation to wrap things up, if he wanted.  _I’m pretty well worked over, no doubt.  I wonder if I’d still get fucked if I ‘gave in’.  Do I want this to stop?_   Harry ran through his systems.  He was bruised and exhausted, but still hard.  Painfully hard.  _I guess I’m still good to go!_

He thought for a moment about what he should do next, then spat in Draco’s face.  Draco’s eyes widened in genuine surprise, then narrowed.  He backhanded Harry across the face, setting Harry’s ears ringing, then slapped him on the other cheek with the forward blow.  _Fuck._ That _might have been a mistake._

Severus slammed Harry’s upper back with both of his hands.  Harry screamed.  Both Draco and Severus let loose, and Harry screamed and moaned, sobbed and cursed as they worked him over, punching him in the pecs and back, slapping his ass, kicking his already cramping calves.  Finally, they stopped, gasping for air.  Harry dangled from his wrists, bruises already blooming over his body.

Draco let Harry down from the ceiling and Severus caught him and carried him bridal style to a table in the middle of the room.  He was laid down face up, arms pulled behind him and tied to the legs of the table on one side, his head dangling over the edge.  Draco set a cushioning to keep his neck and head from resting on the hard edge of the table.  His ass hung an inch or so off the other side.  Draco approached Harry’s head and Harry found himself staring at his crotch.  _Is that a banana in your pocket?_ Harry started giggling hysterically again, his whole body shaking with adrenalin.  Draco just raised his eyebrow, then freed his cock. 

_Ahhh… finally_ , Harry thought to himself.  Like the rest of Draco, Draco’s cock was truly beautiful – about 7 inches, perfectly proportioned, uncut, granite hard, and dripping precum onto Harry’s face.  His large balls hung below, dusted lightly with platinum blond hair.  Draco lightly stroked his cock, allowing Harry to admire it.  Harry’s adoration was interrupted by the unannounced intrusion of Severus’ finger into his ass.  “Ahhh, fuck!” Harry yelped.

Before Harry had a chance to adjust, Severus had removed his finger and the head of Severus cock was pushing against his entrance.  _I guess the finger was just to make sure I was lubed._   Severus paused his entrance to shove his finger into Harry’s mouth, “Clean it, Potter.”  Harry obligingly sucked on the finger and twirled his tongue around the tip.  “I guess you’re good for something, Potter,” Severus sneered as he removed his finger.  He then put Harry’s legs over his shoulders and shoved into Harry’s ass brutally.  Harry’s scream was cut short when Draco’s cock was shoved into his mouth.

Harry adjusted quickly to Severus’ girth, and Severus was soon hitting his prostate on every stroke, sending sparks of blinding pleasure through Harry.  Harry tried to focus on breathing past Draco’s cock, which was reaming his gullet from the other end.  His nose filled with the smell of Draco’s sweat and ass and Draco’s balls slapped against his face.

“This is what you’re good for, Potter, isn’t it?  Taking Death Eater cock from both ends.   What would Dumbledore think if he could see his Golden Boy now?  You love it, don’t you.  Fuck, Potter.” Severus kept the litany of degradation up in his silky voice, roughened a bit now with sex, his cock pounding into Harry’s ass while Draco played roughly with Harry’s nipples and fucked Harry’s face. 

In minutes, Harry was nearly delirious with pleasure.  Severus reached down and gave his cock a couple of rough pulls, pushing him over the edge.  Harry’s scream was muffled by Draco’s cock.  His ass clenched around Severus’ cock, pushing him grunting over the edge.  Finally, Harry felt Draco’s cock harden a bit more, and his balls rise in their sac before he went howling over the edge.  Harry managed to stay aware enough to suck Draco’s cock until it was done spasming and Draco slid it out of his mouth.

Draco’s groin pressed Harry’s face uncomfortably into the table as he leaned forward to kiss Severus over Harry’s supine body.  After a moment in this position, Harry wiggled his head free and objected, “Hey, what about me?”

It took a bit for the three to finish kissing each other and get Harry untied and transferred to the bed, but soon enough they were resting side by side, Harry in the middle curled into Draco with Severus spooning him from behind.  At some point, Severus got up and got more water for everyone.  Later, Draco went and got some tomato soup and bread which the house elves had left earlier.  It had been over an hour by the time they were ready to transfer to the bedroom, and Severus and Draco helped Harry into his pajamas.

“Thanks, Draco, that really was wonderful,” Severus commented.  Harry nodded his support for the statement drowsily.  As he dozed off, he wondered about the bad mood Draco had mentioned Severus was in.  _Wonder what had him going?_


	8. Mass Casualty

Three hours later, Severus was wide awake, having been kicked yet again as Harry flopped about like a freshly landed fish.  Harry was half asleep, jolted awake every time he turned onto a bruise, struggling to find a comfortable position to lie in.  Draco, for his part, had moved out to the sofa and was snoring gently in the quiet.  Finally, Severus sighed deeply and got out of bed, returning with some bruise ointment.  Harry liked to keep his marks, but this was ridiculous.

“Wake up, brat,” Severus said, perhaps more brusquely than Harry deserved.

“Huh?” Still groggy, Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes, wincing as he shifted his weight onto his sore bottom.

“I’m healing your bruises.”

“What!  I’d rather keep them, if it’s all the same to you.”

“It’s _not_ all the same to me.  You’ve been kicking me and head butting me for the last three hours,” Severus replied testily, “And since when do I need your permission when I tell you I’m going to do something?  The answer is ‘Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir,’ and then we go back to sleep.”

Harry was now wide awake.  His eyes started to fill with tears of frustration at his seeming inability to get through a single conversation without making a mistake.  “Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir,” he parroted.

Severus sighed deeply as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry I’m cranky.  I’ll do your front and leave your back.  I just want you to sleep comfortably.”  Harry turned so that Severus could get to his front and stared at the ceiling while Severus worked.  Once this was done, Severus rolled over so that his back was toward Harry.  Unfortunately, he was now too wound up to sleep.  He pretended anyway.

Harry replayed their interaction again and again.  Sometimes it frustrated him: _I can’t ever get it right_.  Sometimes it angered him: _Who the hell_ could _get it right when woken in the middle of the night_.  Sometimes he felt ashamed: _Destroyer of Voldemort and can’t keep myself from crying like a baby at the drop of a hat_.  Finally, he resolved, _I’ll just have to do better_ and rolled onto his back to fall asleep.  Which, of course, landed him on his bruised back, causing him to jerk and kick Severus again.

Harry froze.  He heard Severus take several deep breaths in the dark.  Then Severus rolled onto his back, and pulled Harry onto his chest, directing his head to one shoulder.  They lay together for some minutes, and silent tears started coursing down Harry’s face, soaking into Severus’ pajamas.  Severus gently stroked Harry’s head, breaking the silence to say, “Harry, you’ve known me since you were eleven.  I’m a cantankerous old man and have been as long as you’ve known me.  And I’ve know you since you were eleven.  You’re a brat and have problems with authority, also true for as long as I’ve known you.”  Severus’ soft, silky voice was soothing, and Harry began to calm down. 

“In the past, when I was cranky, you would be bratty and, while our dynamic was sometimes less than porn perfect, on some level it worked.  Both of us were ourselves, and our reactions protected us from each other’s edges.  I’m not sure what changed, but you are reacting differently and I’m not sure how to best adjust.” 

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Severus put a finger over his lips, “Let me say my piece,” he continued, “I feel tense in my interactions with you because I am constantly afraid you’re going to be hurt by the most innocuous comments.  Sometimes, when a relationship becomes tense the way ours has recently, the thing to do is relax the power exchange dynamic so that we can reconnect.”

“If we relax the dynamic,” Harry interrupted, his anxiety showing through, “will you… I mean, will we…” Harry paused, uncertain of how to phrase what he was asking.  Severus waited in the dark.  “Will we still have a relationship if we don’t have our dynamic?  Will you still want me around?”

“I doubt I would have fallen in love with you without our dynamic,” Severus said meditatively.  Harry tensed.  “Let me finish, Harry, before you upset yourself.”

“Upset _myself_?  Upset _myself_!  _You_ are the one upsetting _me_!” Harry shouted as he pulled himself off Severus.

Severus’ gaze narrowed, barely visible in the dark.  “Harry,” he said warningly, “We have not yet decided to relax our dynamic.”

“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!” Harry shot off sarcastically.

 “I will gag you if you don’t shut up and let me finish.”

Harry mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key, still glaring daggers at Severus.

“Fine.  I guess that’s the best I’m going to get tonight.  As I was saying, I doubt I would have fallen in love with you without our dynamic.  If nothing else, we would never have met socially had you not walked into that bar, and you wouldn’t have walked into that bar had you not wanted the type of relationship we have.  However, as it is I _have_ fallen in love with you, brat, and I don’t fall out of love easily.  I can’t make any guarantees, but I think we can relax our dynamic and still have a relationship.  We could go out to dinner, have vanilla sex…”  Harry snorted. 

“Hmmm… now what?  _You_ don’t want to be able to have a relationship without the dynamic?” 

Harry grunted and gesticulated as though trying to speak through his sealed lips.

“You have permission to speak,” Severus said with mock graciousness.

“I don’t want to have vanilla sex.”

Severus snorted, “You know, there is nothing wrong with vanilla sex.  Vanilla is an excellent flavor of ice cream, and vanilla is an excellent flavor of sex.”

“I don’t think you and I _could_ have vanilla sex.  There would always be some kind of power exchange.  Or are you going to let me fuck you?”

Severus raised an eyebrow, but Harry held his gaze steadily.  “This conversation,” Severus finally continued, “has gotten off track.  What I was trying to say is that if we need to relax our dynamic, we will figure out a way to relax our dynamic.  You are going through changes, as is normal for a man barely out of adolescence.”  Harry snorted, and Severus continued, “Or, we can reevaluate our dynamic and adjust it to better meet your current needs.  I need your opinion about what direction you would like this to take.  To that end, I expect an essay from you,” Harry snorted again, and Severus glared at him as he continued, “An essay from you of at least 500 words, giving your opinion on what is causing you to be so… delicate lately, and what direction you would like to go as far as our dynamic.”

“ _Delicate!_ ” Harry grumbled.

“Not another word, Harry.  Go sleep in the work room.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Wednesday morning Harry woke up in the work room feeling bereft.  He only remembered flashes of his strange, early morning dreams. In one sequence he dreamt that Severus took his collar off and broke the lock, then flashed to Joseph dying while Maurus screamed his grief, finally flashing to Draco turning and walking away from him without a word before disappearing into a strange mist.  In another sequence he was kneeling with his head bowed beside Severus while Severus worked on something at his desk, seemingly unaware of his presence.  In that sequence Harry was still wearing his collar.  The sequence then flashed to Draco unconscious in a bed while Harry wiped his bottom, just as Maurus did for Joseph.  Then it flashed to Draco, gaunt as from a long illness, sitting at their table and laughing, with Maurus standing behind him.

Harry showered in the work room, running through the dreams in his mind as he washed.  He couldn’t make head or tail of them, however, and soon moved on.  He turned his thoughts to Severus’ essay.  Why did he feel so ‘delicate’, as Severus had put it?  _Perhaps because Severus is being a right bastard,_ Harry thought to himself, _Although that’s not a big change._   Harry shook his head.  He didn’t _feel_ delicate.  _Just I’m getting passed over at work.  The whole thing with Maurus and Joseph has me shaken._ Harry wondered a bit why Joseph and Maurus were so important.  After all, he barely knew either of them.  _What else?_ Harry forced himself to move his thoughts along.  He was pretty sure it wasn’t just work or Joseph and Maurus.  _When did I start crying every time someone looked at me funny?  I was okay in Chicago.  It was when we went to see Joseph and Maurus for the first time that things changed._

Not understanding exactly why seeing Joseph and Maurus might be important, but sure that it was that evening he started crying more than usual, Harry finished washing his hair and got out of the shower.  After a stop by the bedroom to get his uniform on, he went to the kitchen where Draco was lingering over the remains of his breakfast.

“Hi, Draco, any plans today?”  Harry went for a light, conversational tone.

“Down to Diagon Alley,” Draco said in his posh accent, looking up from his eggs and patting his napkin against his lips, “I’m in need of new robes.”

“Your current robes are barely worn!”

“One doesn’t wait until they are worn before buying new ones, Harry.  You buy your next set before your current set looks anything less than smart.”

Draco’s good humor and the frivolous conversation put flight to Harry’s heavier thoughts, and Harry soon found himself drawn into small talk and banter, which ended only when Harry had to floo to the Ministry. 

He no sooner walked through the doors of the DMLE when he ran into Jackson, who was on his way out.  “Come on, Potter,” Jackson said, looking at Harry as though he were something distasteful scraped off the bottom of his shoe.  “The higher ups want you to come to Diagon Alley with me and pretend to be doing something useful for the sake of the press.”  He then strode away without looking back, clearly expecting Harry to follow him.  Harry did, trying to cheer himself up with the idea that he might run into Draco.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After a couple of hours in Diagon Alley, tagging behind Jackson while doing absolutely nothing per orders, Harry was ready for the day to end.  He found himself running over his strange dreams from the night before again and again for a time, then thinking about why he was suddenly so out of sorts for Severus’ essay, then thinking about Draco getting fitted for new robes.  He wondered if they could meet for lunch.  As though on cue, Draco rounded a corner and, catching sight of Harry, smiled and waved.  Harry felt his face light up at Draco’s appearance.

Suddenly, everything went into slow motion.  Harry heard a piercing scream behind him and turned to see dark robed figures running down the alley, firing curses at anyone and everyone as they went.  He turned back to check on Draco and watched helplessly as a red trail blazed toward his lover, hitting him in the center of the chest.  Draco collapsed, his arm still raised from his wave moments before.  Harry heard another scream from his left and looked over to see a woman screaming over a child lying limp at her feet.  A sudden movement from Jackson caught his attention and he turned to see Jackson struck by the same red curse.  Jackson continued unphased, however.  Harry turned again, only now remembering to draw his wand, and saw a woman carrying a shrieking infant in her arms as she ran toward the open door of one of the shops.  The woman and the baby were both hit by the red curse.  The woman fell, dropping the baby.  The baby continued to squall over the chaos.

Harry started to fire at the neo Death Eaters.  The curse barely missed him two or three times.  Jackson stood side by side with him firing defensive and offensive spells.  The attack ended as quickly as it had begun, with several sharp cracks marking the disapparition of the assailants.  None of the attackers had been left behind.

Harry looked around trying to comprehend the magnitude of the attack.  A hundred or so people of all ages were laying on the ground.  He ran over to Draco, who was breathing and appeared to simply be asleep.  Harry cast _enervate_ , but it had no effect.  He felt as though he was watching himself from a hundred miles away when the medics finally appeared.  The ten medics looked around helplessly as though not knowing where to start.  Finally, they started side-along apparating the victims one by one to St. Mungos. 

Some time later, a half hour or more, Aurors began to arrive.  They interviewed witnesses and collected evidence.  Jackson busily directed the action.  Once everyone was working, he noticed Harry standing with Draco and told him to leave.  Harry took Draco in his arms and apparated to St. Mungos.

Mungos was in chaos.  Unconscious men, women, and children were laying on the floor, across chairs, on tables, anywhere a body could be laid.  Witches and wizards in lime-green robes worked their way through the crowd, placing a numbered bracelet on each wrist and doing a basic medical scan.  The parchment that shot out of the ends of their wands was glanced over by the wizard who cast the diagnostic spell, then pinned quickly to the front of each patient’s robe.  Every so often, one of the healers would yell, “High acuity!” and two orderlies would come to hover that particular patient to another area out of site.

“You.  Are you Harry Potter?”  A healer had come up behind Harry, and Harry turned toward the wizard.

“Yes.  This is Draco Malfoy.  He was hit in the attack on Diagon Alley today.”

“Him and everyone else.  Let me see him.”  The wizard put a bracelet on him and then cast the diagnostic spell.  He glanced the parchment over and pronounced, “Low acuity.  Just the same curse the neo Death Eaters have been using of late.  Nothing to do, I’m afraid, other than nurse him through it until he dies.  Do you have somewhere you can take him?”

“Home.  That is really all you have to offer?” Harry asked tightly.

The wizard shook his head, as though sorry he did not have anything else, before saying, “There’s nothing else to do, medically speaking.  The nurses here will be overwhelmed with the high acuity cases.  Anyone lower acuity who isn’t taken by their family will have sores from laying in their own stool within a day or two.  If you can take him somewhere, you should.  If not, set him down and we’ll tend to him as best we are able.”  With that, the healer hurried away to the next patient.  Harry looked down at the diagnostic … a lot of routine spells and potions that Draco took or used on himself.  Down at the bottom of the list was a notation, “X – unknown.”  Taking one last glance around the chaos at Mungo’s, Harry apparated to the Ministry, and from there floo’d home to their quarters at Hogwarts.

Just as Harry stepped from the floo, Draco cradled in his arms, Severus walked through the door.  A student had spilled tincture of hellesbore on his robes and he wanted to change prior to going to the Great Hall for lunch.  Severus, surprised to see anyone home, started at Harry for a heartbeat before recognizing Draco in his arms.

“There was an attack in Diagon,” Harry said simply as Severus darted forward to take Draco from his arms.  “I took him to St. Mungo’s, but they said there was nothing to do.  It’s the wasting curse.  All hell has broken loose there – a hundred or more were hit in Diagon, and I think there may have been other attacks judging by the numbers at Mungo’s.  They ran a quick diagnostic and sent him home with me.”

Severus laid him on the sofa near the fire, and unpinned the parchment from the diagnostic spell from his chest.  “What does that X mean, Severus?  Unknown?  Is that the wasting curse?”

“No, Harry.  I think this here is the wasting curse.  It was also on Joseph’s list, as was the X -- Unknown,” Severus pointed to a curse close to the top of the list, _expergiscimini exitium_.  “The form of  “X—name” is usually a potion, in this case an unknown potion.”

“Well, that can’t be it.  He was hit by a spell cast by a neo Death Eater.”

“Draco and I had been looking for information on this curse, however we could not find anything about it anywhere, other than the diagnostics of the victims we were able to gain access to.”

Harry looked down at Draco and took several deep breaths, “Severus, what are we going to do?”

Severus put an arm around Harry and held him for a moment, before saying softly, “You are going back to work.  I will make arrangements for Draco.”

Harry drew back abruptly, as though burned.  “I’m going back to work?” He asked incredulously, his eyes narrowing.  “How am I going to go back to work when Draco is unconscious and, well, _dying_.”

“How about being obedient and trusting me for once,” Severus growled.  “In case you missed what is going on, there is a mass casualty.  Draco isn’t the only one injured.  People are going to panic.  _You_ are not only an Auror, and you would have duty enough to go back to work as the most unknown and junior of Aurors – _you are Harry Potter_.  Now get your ass to work.  You will do your duty.”

“Or what?” Harry shot back.

Severus stilled and paused for a moment before saying quietly, “Or I will lose respect for you,” then turned away to go to Draco’s bedside.  Without another word, Harry exited via the floo.


	9. A Toe Out of the Closet

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace in the wee hours of the morning, his face pale and smudged with dirt and blood, to find Severus waiting for him.  Severus leapt from the sofa and quickly crossed the distance between them, pulling Harry into a warm embrace.  Harry stood like a wooden doll in his arms for some minutes, until Severus finally pulled back to look at his face.

“Harry, what happened?”

Harry turned his gaze slowly toward Severus, as though just realizing he was there, and looked at him uncomprehendingly.  “What happened,” Harry echoed dully.

“Harry, come sit down,” Severus commanded gently, pulling Harry toward the sofa.  Severus stood awkwardly over him for a moment before turning away and going to the sideboard, where he poured both of them some of the bourbon they had so recently bought in Kentucky.  The memory of their trip to Chicago seemed so distant, now.

He shoved the tumbler into Harry’s hand and, sitting beside him, took a sip of his own drink.  “Harry, tell me what happened.”

Harry sat for several minutes, not drinking, staring into space as though replaying images in his mind.  “I don’t… I don’t know what to say, Severus.”

“Tell me one thing.  Any one thing.”

“There was a baby.  And his mom,” Harry began after another minute, the words tumbling out quickly once he started, “Right before Draco was hit… or maybe it was after, I don’t remember.  I think the mom was trying to run away, but she was hit.  The baby was hit, too.  And the mom just collapsed with the baby in her arms.  The baby kept screaming and screaming and the mom was just laying there.  She was wearing the most beautiful deep green robes, Severus.  You would have appreciated them.  Your favorite color.  Beautiful fabric.  I think Draco would have approved of the tailoring.  The baby just kept screaming.”

Harry took a deep drink of his bourbon while Severus waited silently for him to continue.  “I went to the Ministry after you sent me away, and they sent me away, too.  Sent me to St. Mungo’s.  It was chaos there.  There were bodies everywhere, but they weren’t bodies – they were alive.  Right.  Casualties, not bodies.  There were casualties everywhere.  Patients.  They were patients.  Medics kept appearing and bringing more people, one after another.  There was nowhere to put them – they were on the floor in rows, shoulder to shoulder, with a foot between one row and the next.  Soon they were laying them crossways in the places they had left as paths earlier.  The healers went through again and again figuring out who needed care beyond… well, care beyond just letting them lie there.  Some people had also been hit with another curse – a disemboweling curse, a burning curse.  Whatever.  So, they were higher acuity, and they would take them off somewhere else.”  Harry paused, once again looking into infinite space.

“They are all going to die, Severus,” Harry finally looked Severus in the eye, “It doesn’t matter whether they are low or high acuity.”

Severus nodded, but kept his peace.  He wanted Harry to keep talking.  “There isn’t room or staff at St. Mungo’s to care for all the casualties, so they need to move the low acuity cases somewhere else.  My job was to find the families… friends… hell, random volunteers… of the low acuity cases and get them to take them off.  You know, like Draco was.  Nothing to do for any of them.”

Harry started to cry, finally, and was silent for a moment other than the gasps he took between long exhales.  Then Harry started again, still crying, “The woman with the baby.  They were brought to St. Mungo’s, and the baby was just left next to the mom, screaming and screaming until he finally gave up.  She doesn’t have any family we could find.  Hopefully they find someone.  The healer barely looked at the two of them when she ran her diagnostic spell them, and just pinned the printout to the baby before walking off again.  The baby pulled it off with his flailing and just kept on screaming.”

Harry took another large gulp of his drink.  “Severus, there were hundreds and hundreds of casualties.  There were synchronized attacks in at least 10 different places – they just swept through firing off that damned curse, then disapparated and went somewhere else.  We didn’t catch any of them.  One Auror managed to stun one of them, but someone stepped out of the crowd – he was just another guy in the crowd until that moment -- and disapparated with the neo-Death Eater side allonged.”

Harry and Severus sat side by side on the sofa silently for an hour or so before either spoke again.

“Harry,” Severus finally broke the silence, “Are you ready to see Draco?”

Harry’s eyes widened, “Oh, God, Severus… I’m not sure I can just yet.  I…”  Harry looked down at his drink.

“It’s okay, Harry.  Have you eaten?” Severus asked gently.

“I think I would throw up.”

“Perhaps a bath, Harry.  Let me get it for you.”  Severus rose and went to the bathroom to start the bath water running.  He came back to get Harry and pulled him up off the sofa, leading him gently into the bathroom.  Harry stood like a doll while Severus unclasped his robe before laying it aside, then unbuttoned his shirt, undressing him in a reversal of their usual roles.  Finally, Harry was naked.  Severus looked him over. He was very heavily bruised front and back. 

“Let me heal your bruises for you, Harry.  I should have healed them for you before you went to work earlier.” Harry was too tired to argue, so Severus went ahead and applied the ointment, then lowered Harry into the bath.

Severus manipulated Harry’s body to wash him, silently shampooing and soaping and rinsing.  Finally, Harry asked, “Aren’t you going to say something?”

Severus thought for a moment before saying, “I don’t know what on earth I could possibly say after all this, Harry.”

“Maybe sing me a song?”  Harry cracked the merest hint of a grin as he said this, an echo of his usual bratty self.

Severus stopped washing for a moment, raising an eyebrow at Harry.  Harry met his gaze unphased. 

“You do realize if you tell _anyone_ I sang to you…”

“Not a soul, Severus.”

“Mama said there’ll be days like this,”  Severus belted out in his deep, silky voice, eyes closed and a slight blush on his cheeks, “There’d be days like this my mama said…”

Harry’s jaw dropped like a ton of bricks, then he started laughing helplessly.  Severus didn’t even bother with the versus, just singing the refrain over and over again while he washed and Harry laughed.  Harry’s laughter ran its course and died down.

“The Shirelles!” Harry exclaimed, “No one would believe me if I tried to tell them you sang _that_ of all things.”

“I honestly couldn’t think of anything else.  It’s my bad day song.”

“Your bad day song?”

“You know, the song you sing to yourself when you are having a horrible day.”

Harry looked in bewilderment at his partner, imagining the severe Severus Snape coming out from under Voldemort’s _cruciatus_ singing “Mama Said” to himself.

“You don’t have one?” Severus asked curiously.

“I guess I do now.  I’ll use that one.  I don’t think I’ll be able to get it out of my head if I tried.”  Harry shook his head as he spoke.

Severus became serious again.  “I think, unfortunately, you may have much cause to use it in the days soon to come.  Time to get out, Harry.”

Harry let himself be helped out of the tub, dreading what would come next.  His pajamas were in the bedroom where Draco lay.  Severus took his naked boy’s hand and led him to the bedroom, where Draco was ensconced on a twin size bed that had been placed against one wall.  The moment he laid eyes on his lover, Harry turned away, burying his face in Severus’ chest.  “Oh, God, Severus.  He’s so beautiful.  I can’t believe it’s going to end like this… he’s just going to die like this.”

“He’s not dead yet,” Severus reminded Harry firmly.  Harry nodded – it was a ‘message received’ nod not an ‘I agree’ nod.  Severus knew which nod it was, but didn’t comment, instead turning his attention to the mundane task of getting Harry dressed and tucked into bed.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The loud clang of the floo alarm echoed through Severus’ quarters, waking Harry and Severus from a deep sleep.  Severus felt his anger flare at the intrusion and stalked over to the fireplace as Harry rolled over to go back to sleep.  Severus opened the floo to allow the call through.

A few seconds later, Maurus’ face looked out from the fire.  “Oh!  Sir, I’m sorry.  I had hoped to find Harry.”

“What is it?” Severus asked severely, glaring down at Maurus.

“Sir, Master soiled himself and I threw out my back trying to clean him.  I can’t roll him to change out the bedding.  I had hoped, with your permission, to have Harry’s help, Sir.”

“I’ll come help,” Severus relented.  “Harry had a rough day and is sleeping it off.  Give me a minute to pull myself together.”

Severus threw a robe on over his pajamas, put on a pair of socks and his boots, then went through to Joseph’s.  Maurus was still on his knees by the fireplace.

“Get up,” Severus snapped.  He had little tolerance for any protocol that slowed things down.

Maurus looked up apologetically, “I’m sorry, sir.  I can’t.  I knelt to use the floo but I’m having a hard time getting up again.  If you would?”

Severus, realizing his misunderstanding, helped Maurus gently to his feet.

“Could you hover my Master while I change his bedding?” Maurus asked.

“Yes, of course.”  The two men walked to the sick room together, which once again smelled overwhelmingly of bleach, urine, stool, and stale sweat.  Severus hovered Joseph who, he noticed, looked worse than the last time he was there. 

Maurus tried to reach across the bed to peel off the dirty sheets, however as he tried to pull himself upright again he nearly collapsed in pain.  “Fuck!” he exclaimed, then realizing his gaffe looked back at Severus, who was staring back at him with eyebrows raised and lips pursed.  Maurus dropped his eyes deferentially before amending, “I mean, ‘Fuck, sir!’”

Severus chuckled despite himself, then moved to help Maurus get up.  He sighed deeply and thought for a moment before speaking.  “I don’t think this is going to work anymore.  Did Joseph appoint a guardian for you before he was incapacitated?”

Maurus teared up. “Yes, sir.  Lee Clearwater, sir.”

++++++++++++++++++++++

Severus sent an owl to Lee informing him of the situation and cooked before waking Harry up for breakfast.  Harry was still rather out of sorts, but overheard Severus humming “Mama Said” to himself as he fixed two plates and couldn’t help but feel a bit better.

“So, what happened here yesterday, Severus?  I assume some of the students were affected?”

Severus shook his head darkly, “Yes.  Mostly the other houses.  Slytherin families, of course, are more likely to be spared when Neo-Death Eaters attack.  Given the number of students who need to go visit sick family members, Minerva has cancelled classes for the week.”

Harry paused for a moment, thinking.  “How could such random attacks spare certain families?” He asked.

Severus paused, “I don’t know.  Perhaps not as random as they appeared?  Slytherin wasn’t completely spared, and obviously Draco was hit.  Perhaps it was a coincidence that Slytherin was less decimated than the other houses.”

They finished their meal in companionable silence, and as they stood up, Harry asked, “Do I have to go to work today, Severus?  I’d rather nurse Draco.”

“You have to go to work,” Severus said definitively, “for the reasons we have already discussed.”  Harry sighed, then dressed and flooed to the Ministry without another word.

 

++++++++++++++++++++

 

It was a few hours later when Ron came wandering into Harry’s office.  Harry had been put back on desk duty and was sorting through not only the hundreds of documents generated by the first neo-Death Eater attack on Diagon Alley, but also through the thousands more generated by the synchronized attacks yesterday.  The number of casualties was staggering.  Harry had spent the morning reading through one story after another.  He had copies of all of the medical diagnostic scans performed and had read through many of those as well.  While he was relieved not to have to see the actual people cursed like yesterday, in a way the bureaucratic reduction of so much human tragedy was even more disturbing.

The office was nearly empty, as everyone else was out in the field doing something important while Harry shuffled papers.  Ron’s familiar “Hey, mate,” broke the oppressive silence. 

“Hiya, Ron.  What are you up to?”

“I volunteered to come help you.  I figured you could use some company.  Hermione told me about Draco.”

Harry paused and looked down, trying not to tear up.  “Thanks for coming.”

“Sure, no problem.  How can I help?” 

Things started to move along faster with Ron at his side, and Harry was glad for his company even if they didn’t have all that much to talk about these days.  Their necks were sore and their eyes dry when Ron started talking again.  “So, I have a question for you… kind of an odd one, but you’ve known Hermione and me a long time…” 

Harry looked up and noticed that Ron was blushing.  “Sure, Ron, anything.  What’s on your mind?”

“Ahhh… well, Hermione [cough] askedmetospankher,” Ron sputtered.

“Huh?”

“Hermione. Asked. Me. To. Spank. Her,” Ron repeated.

Harry chuckled, “And?”

“This isn’t funny, Harry.  I mean, what would you do if Severus asked you to spank him?”

 _I’d ask him to spank me instead,_ Harry thought to himself.  Somehow he didn’t think that would help Ron.  “For a number of reasons, that would never happen.”

“Well, I certainly never thought Hermione would ask _me_ to spank her.  I mean, you just never know, Harry.  For all you know, Severus is reading the same book Hermione evidently read, and when you get home he’ll be holding a paddle asking you to give him a good going over!”

Harry laughed at the image Ron had painted.  _No, definitely never going to happen_.  “So, did you spank the woman, or leave her wanting?” Harry asked archly.

“Well,” Ron blushed again deeply, “I spanked her.  Do you think that makes me sick?  Or her sick?  Or both of us sick?”

“None of the above.  Lots of people spank their partners.  As long as you both had a good time, I think you’re okay.”

Ron took a deep breath.  “Good.  Because it’s nice to have someone to talk to about this.  Here’s the thing.  I’ve spanked her a few times now, and the last time she kept asking for it harder, and at the end she _still_ wanted it harder and my hand fucking _hurt_.  So, what would you do in that situation?”  Ron asked, not expecting an answer.

“Not that I’m ever likely to find myself in that situation,” Harry said, thinking _though not for any reason you need to know about,_ “but I think that is what paddles are for.”

Ron’s eyes widened.  “You think I should _paddle_ Hermione?”

“Well, I think you should talk to her about it.  Let her know your hand hurt, and that you think a paddle might help.  And while you’re at it, you can figure out what she wants out of the spanking.”

“What do you mean what she wants out of the spanking?”  Ron now looked thoroughly bewildered.

“You know, some people like to be spanked because they like the prickly sensation of a warmed backside.  Others don’t feel like they’ve been properly spanked unless they’re crying at the end.  Some people just like a few swats as foreplay.  Other people want to have a discipline relationship with rules, like making her bed in the morning or somesuch, where you spank her if she breaks the rules, with the whole ceremony – you know, ‘here’s what you did wrong; this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you – that kind of thing before you spank.  And other people like to _pretend_ they are in a discipline relationship when they are in the bedroom, so you spank with all the ritual around it, but there aren’t any actual rules in your relationship, it’s just roleplaying… bedroom theater, you know?  Anyway, once you figure out what kind of spanking she wants, you want to make sure she has a safeword so if it isn’t what she expects, she can stop things by saying it.”

Ron was staring at Harry wide-eyed by the time he finished.  “You know,” Ron finally said, “You know an awful lot about spanking for someone who is absolutely sure his partners will never want to be spanked.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to pause.  Clearly, Ron already guessed something was up.  But did Harry want to confirm it?  Severus had always told him to be as open as he could, and as discrete as he needed to be.  Did he need to be discrete after Ron told him he had spanked Hermione?

“Well, Ron… I do know a decent amount about spanking, but I don’t top.”

“Top?”

“I’m the person who gets spanked, not the person doing the spanking.  But I’ve been spanked enough times and am around people who spank and get spanked enough that, well, yeah, I know a decent amount about it.”

Ron looked at him for a long while, eyes narrowing at the image of Severus or Draco hitting his friend.  Then he decided to let that go (for now, at least).  “So, you think I need a paddle,” he said finally.

“First, you need to have a talk with her and figure out what she wants, and whether she would be okay with a paddle.  And a safeword – You need a safeword.  Then you can get the paddle.”

Ron let out a strangled grunt and they went back to work.


	10. Kumbaya

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace late Thursday evening to find Maurus kneeling on the floor with his back to the fireplace facing Severus and Lee, who were sitting comfortably on the sofa talking.  Harry didn’t quite know the protocol for this sort of situation, so stood awkwardly for a moment until Severus gestured to a chair.

“I’d better get home,” Lee said easily to Severus, standing and ruffling Harry’s hair affectionately on his way to the fireplace.  Harry scowled slightly at the liberty, but figured it was best to let it go.  He wondered why Maurus was here and who was taking care of Joseph.

Once Lee was gone, Severus turned his attention to Harry.  “Maurus is going to stay with us for the indefinite future,” Severus began, “Unfortunately, he’s hurt his back and is unable to care for Joseph alone as he had been doing.  Given Draco’s …” Severus paused a moment to regain his emotional control, “situation, Lee thought Maurus might be of assistance to us.  Maurus will care for both Draco and Joseph during the day.  Since I will be just down the hall, he will come get me if he needs either moved about.  When you get home,” he turned to Harry, “You will work together to do anything that requires two people – bathing, changing the bedding, and so on.  Once those tasks are done, Maurus, you will rest while Harry cares of both of them.  The three of us will rotate nights so that no one person will be overburdened.”

“Now, if you two will excuse me, I have some work in the lab.  Get Draco and Joseph arranged in the work room so as to make their care as straightforward as possible.  Harry, change the décor so that it looks appropriate to a sick room.”  Harry nodded his understanding and stood to comply.

“Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir,” Maurus said formally, keeping his head bowed and eyes down until Severus left the room.

Once Severus was gone, Maurus looked up at Harry from his low kneel and gave his usual warm smile.  “How are you holding up, Harry?  I heard about Draco.”

“It’s horrible.  And Severus has been making me go to work.  How the hell am I supposed to just go about my business with Draco dying?”

“Help me up, Harry,” Maurus reached up for a hand and Harry hauled him up, drawing a grunt from Maurus.  Once the pain passed, Maurus regained his usual smile and said, kindly but firmly, “You just do it, Harry.”

“What I _want_ to do is care for Draco,” Harry pressed his lips together in frustration.  _Surely Maurus will understand!  I want to care for Draco the way he cares for Joseph._

Maurus sighed deeply.  It had been a long day, and now he had not only passed into Lee’s guardianship but had also been lent to Severus Snape.  “Yes, I understand.  We all have our preferences.”  And today had not really gone according to his preferences.  Maurus knew Severus by reputation for the most part, and his reputation was a Master heavy on discipline.  All he wanted to do was care for Joseph, and now he had to figure out a new household with its own dynamics and rules.

“Harry,” Maurus said more gently than he felt, “part of being Severus’ boy is that you trust that he is making good decisions.  They may not be the same decisions you would have made, but surely you can see why he has you going to work.  Even though you would do something different if you weren’t Severus boy, you’ll obey him.”  Maurus put a hand on Harry’s shoulder to gentle the message further.

“I’m just not as submissive as you are,” Harry huffed.

Maurus laughed.  “True.  You aren’t submissive at all.  But neither am I, really.  Most slaves aren’t, you know.”

“Isn’t it kind of the definition of being a slave?  Like a boy, but even more submissive?” Harry asked with more than a bit of snark.

“Not at all.  Submissiveness is a personality trait that varies according to situation and where you are in life.  Not something you have any control over, when it comes right down to it.  If you try to ‘be submissive’ you’ll just drive yourself crazy.  Don’t get me wrong -- I submit to Master Joseph and obey him, but submitting and obeying are actions not personality traits.”  Maurus paused for a moment and studied Harry’s face.  He had gotten as much of the message as he was going to get.  “Come on, let’s get to work.”

Maurus easily took charge as they redecorated the work room, then moved Draco and Joseph to their respective beds.  Maurus also had Harry put a couple of comfortable chairs on one end of the room between the two of them and curtains around each bed.  As they were tucking Draco in at the end, Maurus noticed Harry staring off into space.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Maurus asked.

“Huh?  Oh.  I was just thinking about the essay I’m supposed to write for Severus.  I have no idea what to say.”

“Would talking it out help?”

“Maybe.  He asked me to write about why I was so ‘delicate’ as he put it and how we needed to adjust the dynamic… ugh.  I think Draco just pooped.”  Harry gagged slightly at the smell.

“Go to it, honey,” Maurus laughed, “You’re the one who wanted to nurse him instead of going to work.”  Maurus looked on as Harry struggled through his first adult diaper change.  Harry gagged so much his eyes watered as he wiped and cleaned Draco’s bottom.

“So, why does Severus think the dynamic needs to change?”

Harry continued working as he spoke, the strong emotions from the story taking his mind off the distress of changing his lover’s diaper.  “Well, you remember that night we first met?  I mouthed off to Draco and Severus tried to spank me, but I fought him off and I think cussed both of them out… so then Draco was going to strap me, and he went through the litany Severus always go through before _he_ straps me, and I told them to fuck off.”  When Harry looked up, Maurus’ eyebrows were somewhere near his hairline and his delicate mouth was open in a large O.

Maurus finally coughed, then said tightly, “And Severus referred to this behavior as ‘delicate’?”

“Ummm… yes.”  _Great.  Now he thinks I’m a fuck up, too_.

This did not square with any reputation the severe Severus Snape had, at least that Maurus had heard.  “So, then what happened?”

Harry thought for a few moments as he continued working.  “Well, Severus stopped the action and they left me hanging there for a while, then when Severus came back he asked me if I really wanted to wear his collar.  Then told me to think about things, and either come with him that night, or stay at home.”

“And you decided to come… What set things off, anyway?”

“I wanted a drink.”

“You wanted a drink,” Maurus parroted incredulously. He thought for a moment, then asked, “Is that a problem you struggle with then?  The drink?”

Harry started.  “No, not at all.  I just had a bad day at work and wanted a drink, and then Draco was all over me telling me I had other duties.  I just wasn’t in the mood.”

“You weren’t in the mood,” Maurus parroted again.  Then he took a deep breath and added, “I guess Severus must really care for you.  By reputation, he is a rather intolerant Master.  Honestly, after something like that, even a tolerant Master would likely have thrown you out on your ass.  You wouldn’t even tell your vanilla lover to fuck off the way you did.”

“A vanilla lover wouldn’t have strung me up in preparation for strapping me.”

“True, but you wouldn’t have told them it was okay to, either,” Maurus shook his head.  “I guess it’s a different dynamic than I’m used to,” he added in a conciliatory tone.

Harry had finished wiping and putting the diaper on, and was busily banishing the wipes and the old diaper in preparation for tucking Draco back in.  “It’s not like I think it was acceptable behavior, Maurus.  I fucked up.  Severus already strapped the shit out of me for it, and I don’t need a tongue lashing from you, also.”  By the time he was finished, Harry was close to yelling or crying.  He wasn’t sure which.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I was out of place.  Very much out of place – both the new slave on campus, and a guest in your home.  Please forgive me?”

“I… yes, of course, Maurus.  I’m sorry I yelled.  This is what Severus was referring to when he said I was ‘delicate’.  I get all bent out of shape over the most minor things.  Although I don’t _feel_ delicate so much as… I just hurt.”

“Did it start before or after Draco was cursed?”

“Before.  I finally figured out when it started, but I don’t know why it started then.  You see, after I heard about Joseph getting cursed, I got excited listening to Lee and Severus talk thinking I’d be able to help with the investigation, but then when I got to work I found out I had been benched.”

“But I saw you in the paper…”

“Yes, because not only did they bench me, they made me go out to the scene so that it would look like I was actually involved.  So, I spent the entire day on the scene, pretending to do what I wanted to be doing, but without actually being allowed to do or say anything.”

“I see why you wanted a drink,” Maurus said as he checked to make sure Joseph was tucked in. “Why don’t they want you in on the investigation?”

“My reputation,” Harry crossed his arms and rolled his eyes a bit, then flinched as he realized Draco was right there, even if he was unconscious.  “I have a reputation for going off on my own and not following orders.”

“Is it true?”

“Well… I don’t _mean_ not to follow orders, but then something will happen and it will seem like a better thing to do X rather than Y, and off I go.”

“Ah.  Well, if you want a new reputation, you have to start earning it.  In any case, have you told this to Severus?”

“No.  I still don’t know why I feel delicate, just when it started and… well, that I don’t feel delicate, so much as hurt.  What am I going to tell him,” Harry continued in his most effeminate whine, “’Honey, I’m just hurting inside, and I don’t know why’?”  Switching back to a normal, if somewhat dejected tone, “I’m sure we’d hold hands and sing kumbaya then.”

 

“Are you awake?” Harry whispered to Severus a few hours later as they lay next to each other in bed.

“Yes, Harry.  What is on your mind?”  Severus pulled Harry closer into his arms.

“Maurus said I should just tell you that I was hurting and it started after I found out about Joseph being cursed and all that at work, but I don’t know why,”  Harry blurted.  Harry felt Severus’ arms grip him a bit tighter before relaxing again, then dry lips brush where his neck met his shoulder.

“Maurus was right,” Severus said into the darkness.

“He also said you were tolerant and must care about me not to throw me out on my ass the other night.  I really am sorry, Severus.”

“As you should be.  The last thing I need is this reputation for _tolerance_ and _caring_ you and Maurus are trying to give me.”  The two lay together peacefully for several minutes before Harry spoke up again.

“Severus, about our dynamic.”

“Yes?”

“Can I be your slaveboy?” Harry giggled jokingly.

“’May you?’ -- yes.  ‘Can you?’ – no,” Severus said seriously.

“What do you mean?” Harry’s playful mood dropped off and he turned to look up at Severus face, which was inscrutable in the darkness.

“You _may_ be my slave if you ever are _able_ to be my slave, and I would be honored.  Right now, though, you are my boy because you can’t be a slave until you _grow up_.”  Harry recoiled as though he had been slapped.  “Don’t get all bent out of shape, Harry,” Severus continued, “It’s just the truth.  You had, what, three months on your own before you became my boy?  Let’s review…” Severus’ tone became pedagogical, “You spent a single happy year with your parents -- Well, we assume it was a happy year, because you have no memory of it -- They were both then murdered.  Then you went and lived with your abusive relatives for the next ten years – no one acted _in loco parentis_ there.  Next, you came under the control of a man who, in better circumstances, would have acted as a father to you.  I truly believe he felt paternal toward you, however as he was a general in a war against the same dark wizard who murdered your parents, instead set you on a course he fully expected would end in your death.  Next, I killed him, and despite all his faults he was the closest thing you had to a father at that point.  You were effectively an orphan the next couple of years.”

“In the midst of all that, you had experiences no child should have.  For example, you made a mistake that resulted in your godfather’s death.”  Harry tried to pull away again, but Severus gripped him a bit tighter until he relaxed again.  “Harry, grown men make mistakes that result in people’s deaths and have a hard time of it.  I’ve done it. Dumbledore had done it. You were a _child_ and should never have been in that situation in the first place.  And when it was done, there was no one you could go to who could patch you up.”

“You are a boy going through a delayed adolescence.  And what is adolescence other than a period when you can act like a complete idiot, or a complete asshole, and not be rejected?  The reason I didn’t throw you out on your ass is because I’m your Daddy, and Daddy’s don’t throw their boys to the wolves when they tantrum.  That said, I have no idea how you drew out of me this degree of paternal feeling.  Any other boy I would have thrown out that day.”  Severus paused for a long moment.  “If you want to be my slave once you are done with being an adolescent, I’d be honored to accept your obedience and service.  But you can’t offer the sterling gift of yourself until you can hold yourself in your own two hands.”

Harry and Severus lay silently again for a while.  “That’s a lot to think about.  Meanwhile,” Harry’s tone became playful again, “Can I _pretend_ to be your slaveboy?”

“Sure.  I’m tired.  Go sleep on the floor, slave.”

“WHAT!”

“Perhaps being a slave isn’t what you want after all?  There _are_ other options on the menu,” Severus whispered into Harry’s ear, then nipped at his earlobe.  He slid a hand up under Harry’s shirt and started playing with his nips, first one then the other then back again.  He drew his tongue around the edge of Harry’s ear, then kissed his way down his neck.  Within a few minutes he had Harry relaxed and moaning softly.  “You are wearing altogether too much for what I have in mind, Harry.”

Harry quickly skinned off his pajamas and turned back toward Severus.  Severus pulled him into a kiss, sucking Harry’s lower lip into his mouth and biting down, stopping just short of pain, then releasing and deepening the kiss.  Harry shuddered as Severus’ hands moved down his flanks, caressing and kneading, squeezing and scratching before finally pulling his ass cheeks apart.  The air felt cool on Harry’s exposed pucker for a moment, then Severus released is ass and moved forward, stroking gently over the delicate skin between his balls and his hole.  Harry’s dick, now granite hard, thrust involuntarily against Severus’ arm.  Severus grabbed Harry’s cock and gave a few rough tugs, nearly sending Harry over the edge.

Severus let go suddenly and pushed Harry back, taking a moment to pull his shirt over his head before latching on to Harry’s left tit with his mouth and the other with his hand.  As he licked and sucked, teased and nibbled on the left, he pinched and pulled, circled and rubbed the right.  Harry ground against Severus’ knee and tried not to moan too loudly given their company in the next room.  Severus, however, wanted to hear Harry, and didn’t particularly mind if anyone overheard.  Slowly, Severus nibbled and bit harder on the one side, and pinched and pulled harder on the other, until Harry was at the desired volume.  _Like the dials on a radio,_ Severus thought to himself.  Harry moved his hands into Severus’ hair, at first gently running his fingers through the silky strands, then fisting them.  Once he pulled a little too roughly, and Severus bit down sharply on the nipple in his mouth.

“Ahh!” Harry cried in surprise, but by that point Severus was licking the nipple in consolation.  Harry took the hint and moved his hands back to his sides, where he fisted the sheets instead.  “Please, Severus,” Harry moaned. 

“Please what?” Severus paused his tit play for a moment to look at his boy, whose head was thrown back, eyes clenched, biting his lower lip.

“Please, Sir,” Harry whined.

“Wrong answer.”  Severus went back to working Harry’s nips, moving his mouth to the right and working the left with his other hand. 

“Pleeeeaaaassse,” Harry whined again.

“Please what?”  Severus stopped again and watched his boy writhe on the bed.

Harry looked down at Severus, pupils blown, and tried to puzzle out what he was supposed to say.  “My cock, Severus…. Please,” he finally gasped, allowing his head to flop back onto the pillow.

“Since you asked so politely, boy,” and Severus started licking Harry’s cock from base to tip like a lolly-pop.  Harry squirmed helplessly, but kept his hands fisted in the sheets to keep from grabbing Severus’ head and thrusting into his mouth.  Severus moved down to Harry’s balls, licking and nibbling gently before finally taking them, one at a time into his mouth.

“AAAaaaahhhh, Severus.  Please,” Harry whined again.

“What now, boy?”  Severus stopped completely.  Harry gasped for air while Severus admired the sight of muscles playing under sweaty skin and enjoyed the smell of 100% grade A male crotch.  He reached up with both hands and started to play with Harry’s nips again, a little rougher now.

“Don’t stop!  Christ, Severus, my cock.  Please please please suck my cock, fist my cock, blow on my cock… Do _something_ to my cock,” Harry begged.

Severus was always a sucker for a begging boy, so he took Harry in his mouth to the root, then pulled back and worked his tongue under the foreskin.  It only took a few seconds before Harry was babbling incoherently.

“Sever… Severus… I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”

Severus pulled back so that Harry’s cockhead was in his mouth just as Harry came to a screaming climax.  One… two… three… and four spurts… ( _Oh to be 20 again!_ Severus thought to himself) and Harry was milked dry.  Severus held Harry’s jism in his mouth, and pulled Harry into a kiss, pushing the semen into Harry’s mouth.  Harry, knowing what was expected, took it all and swallowed.  Finally released, Harry floated for a long while as Severus lay at his side playing with the light dusting of hair over Harry’s abdomen.   

“Thank you for telling me how you were feeling, Harry.  Even if you don’t know why you are hurting, you need to tell me,” Harry heard Severus whisper as he succumbed to sleep.


	11. Flogging

Harry let out a deep sigh as he glanced up from the book he had been trying to read.  It had been a long week.  Finally, Friday evening had come.  The workday had been grueling but uneventful.  He had spent the day reading and trying to make sense of the thousands of pages of reports and interviews related to the neo Death Eater attacks.  Gradually, he was bringing order to the chaos.  He kept running through what he had gleaned, but still couldn’t put it together.  He looked down at the book and realized it had been upside down for at least the last half hour.  He closed it with a snap, pulled himself up off the comfortable chairs Maurus had insisted be placed in the sick room, and walked over to Draco’s bed.

_Long week.  Hell of a long week, love.  And I never thought it would end with you laying in a bed like this, dying.  Dying._ Harry forced himself to think the word again.  It had a certain unreality to it.  Draco looked for all the world like he was just asleep.  “Dying,” Harry forced himself to say the word out loud, to make it more real.  He sighed again and pulled down the covers to check if the pads were wet or dirty. 

He wanted to not be a flake.  _Such a low bar.  Just don’t be a flake._ But he hated changing Draco’s diapers, hated bathing him, hated the sick room smell.  _I love him, but I hate and despise wiping his ass._   Harry felt guilty for enjoying going off to work earlier, leaving the nursing to Maurus.  As hard as he had fought to stay home, the reality was different.  You couldn’t just pretend like it wasn’t happening.

Harry rolled Draco over to his left side, so he wouldn’t get sores.  Maurus had coached him in nursing a comatose patient.   _God knows where he learned it_.  Then he tucked Draco back in and went to the other side of the room.  Joseph had clearly soiled himself.  Harry almost went and got Maurus to change Joseph.  _God, as bad as it is to change Draco, worse to clean someone you don’t even know.  At least love gets me through Draco’s filth_.  Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to do the work.

_I’ve done heavy things before, God knows, but they were all quick.  Walking to my own death took only 20 minutes.  Dying was even faster.  This, though… can I really keep this up for a year?_   Harry gagged as he changed Joseph’s diaper.  He hovered him easily with a charm, but Maurus had told him that cleaning ought to be done by hand, to avoid irritating the skin.  _I wonder if I could get away with it just this once?  No.  Maurus wouldn’t try to get away with it._

Harry thought over the conversations he and Maurus had over their shared chore time.  Harry had opened up to him about his fear of flaking out on Draco, and about how he had first realized he would be flaky when he heard about Maurus and Joseph.  Maurus had only shrugged and given him a concerned look.  Harry had then said in a joking tone, “Maybe if I was a slave I’d not be such a flake?”  And Maurus had proceeded to tell him the same thing Severus had told him, in different words – he had to grow up first.  “After all,” Maurus had said, “if you had that little temper tantrum the other night as a slave, you would have ended your relationship.”

_Not even good enough to be a slave!_   Harry didn’t understand why it was suddenly so important.  He had never really wanted to be a slave before.  _I’ve never met a flaky slave before_.  _Maybe it’s just that flaky slaves aren’t slaves for long… they just leave their relationship._   What was it Maurus had said?  “If you want not to be flaky, you have to get beyond your own will for yourself.  Slavery works because your Master’s will pulls you outside of your own, and the demand of obedience even when you don’t feel like it is the axis around which you do your spiritual work.”  Harry had laughed at how serious Maurus was when he said it.  “Spiritual work?” He had teased, “Isn’t that a little hoity toity for being a sex toy?”

Maurus had laughed with him, then told him that the brilliant thing about consensual slavery as a spiritual path is that your dick led you along it, but your whole soul benefited.

_Do I really want to be a slave?_ Harry thought to himself.  _Maybe I just want what I can’t have.  Why would I want to sleep on the floor?  Would Severus really have made me sleep on the floor last night if I had been his slave?_ Harry knew Severus had had slaves in the past.  He wondered what he had been like as a Master.  He imagined himself kneeling at Severus’ feet, waiting for him to give a command, hands behind his back (to remind himself he couldn’t do anything without an order), eyes down (to remind himself that even looking at his beloved Master was a privilege).  _Well, clearly my dick likes that spiritual path!_   Harry thought as he reached down to adjust himself. 

Harry rolled Joseph to his left side also.  _No bedsores for these two!  Merlin.  Dying without bedsores is the best we can hope for._

His flurry of activity done for the moment, Harry glanced back at the chair with the unread book.  He decided he needed a breather instead, so set a couple of monitoring spells and went out to the living room, where Severus was sitting on the sofa and Maurus was writing a letter at the desk.   Harry hesitated for a moment, trying to shake off his melancholy.  His mind went back to his earlier image of kneeling for Severus. _Well, if I can’t be a slave for real, might as well pretend!_   He knelt at Severus’ feet.

Severus gave no sign that he had noticed Harry.  By two minutes in, Harry felt his temper rising.  _Maybe he didn’t notice me kneeling?_   Harry thought for a minute about how to attract Severus’ attention, then realized there was no way the former spy didn’t realize he was there.  _What would Maurus do?  A good slave would just kneel here and wait._   Harry took a few deep breaths, trying to channel Maurus’ calm, but his anger started to rise again.  By the time he hit the ten-minute mark, he was furious.  _The least he could do is acknowledge my presence!_   He forced himself to take more deep breaths.  _No, slave, calm yourself down.  Slaves don’t get their presence acknowledged.  Deep breaths._

Severus watched the tension flow in and out of his boy.  He had to give Harry credit, he had managed to kneel without trying to attract attention for close to 15 minutes, though it was clearly a fight.  “What are you up to, Harry?”

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when he was acknowledged, but then forced himself to play it cool.  He looked up at Severus through his lashes and, with a half smile, said in his lightest voice, “Your slaveboy, if it pleases you, sir!”  When Severus raised his eyebrow, he added quickly, “I figured if I can’t be your slaveboy, I could at least _pretend_ to be your slave?”

Severus sighed and shook his head.  “You’re like a dog worrying a bone with this slave thing.”  Harry dropped his eyes again, and Severus waited another two or three minutes before continuing, growing amused at Harry’s steadily worsening struggle to stay still and calm.  At least it would take their minds off the horror in the other room.  “On your feet,” he ordered in a voice like thunder.  Harry jumped to comply.  “Strip.”

Harry quickly skinned off the jeans and t-shirt he had changed into when he got home, folded them neatly as he knew Severus preferred, and put them on a side table.  He then put his hands back behind his back and bowed his head, keeping his gaze on the floor in front of him.  His cock refused to adopt a similarly humble posture, instead standing out proudly in a granite hard erection.  Maurus looked on from his spot behind the desk with an amused smile.

“Hands behind your neck and turn _slowly._   Let me see what I’ll be getting out of the arrangement.”  Harry complied, a blush starting over his chest and rapidly suffusing his face.  His cock just got harder.

“Okay, slaveboy,” Severus began once Harry had turned a full 360, “While you are in this role, I expect you to follow all orders immediately and without question, call me Master at least once every sentence, keep your hands behind your back unless you need them to do something I order, not speak unless spoken to, and not come without permission.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” 

Severus sighed loudly.  Maurus, frowning from his place behind the desk, wondered what Severus would do.

“I mean… Yes, Master,” Harry amended sheepishly.

Severus pressed his lips together tightly for a moment, then spoke in a gelid tone, “We’ll let that one go, as you had not yet agreed.  How long do you propose to be my slave?”

Harry looked up sharply.  _Could I get away with saying ‘for life’?  Would I want to be his slave for life?  Neither of them think I’d make it as a slave.  Best not gamble… just have a fun evening and take our minds of things._ “Until morning, if it pleases you, Master.”

“Fine.  Fetch your wand.”  Harry hesitated for a moment.  _What is it with these men and me handing over my wand?  I wonder if he’d let me use magic if I was his slave for real.  He’d own my magic, too, wouldn’t he?_   “What part of immediately didn’t you understand, slave?”  Severus’ tone was now subzero.  Harry ran and got his wand, kneeling to present it to Severus, who placed it neatly on the mantle above the fire.  “Now go clear the table and do the dishes.” 

Harry started to say that the house elf could do it but shut his jaw with a snap and did as he was told.  _Maurus would do it without complaining.  And besides, am I any better than an elf as a slave?  Just a valuable piece of property._  

Once Harry had passed through into the dining room, Severus cast a _muffliato_ and turned to Maurus, who remained at his desk with an arch smile on his face.  “Unfortunately, once he gets this sort of thing in his head, it has to run its course.  I understand I have you to thank for his coming to me last night with his partial understanding of what was setting him off?”

Maurus bowed his head and wiped his face of emotion.  “Yes, sir,” Maurus hesitated for a moment, “I’m sorry, I should have asked sooner.  Do you prefer to be addressed as Master?”

“By my own slave, yes.  But you are still Joseph’s, so ‘sir’ is fine.  Thank you for nudging him.  It was helpful.  Over the course of our discussion it became clear that he has developed admiration and affection for you, and he attributes what he finds admirable about you to your slavery.”

“Yes, sir.  We had a conversation this evening where he joked about wanting to be a slave, but it didn’t sound like he was completely joking.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him it would be a disaster, as kindly as I could.  He told me about the row you all had Tuesday evening and…”  Maurus trailed off, not wanting to say too much.  He looked down again in case he had already said too much.

“In any case, I think a bit of ‘let’s pretend’ might distract him from that,” Severus gestured to the sick room.  He turned back to Maurus, “I understand you were quite the top back in the day?”

Maurus smiled at the now twenty-year-old memory of himself.  “I was a top before I met Joseph, yes, sir.”

“Would you like to top Harry with me tonight?  Feel free to say no for any reason – I know your Master is dying in the next room… not to mention it might not be compatible with keeping your head in the right place for a slave.”

“It would help get my mind off things, sir, and pleasing you will keep my head in the right place.”

“Good.  Once he is done slaving in the kitchen, I’ll have you restrain him in the bedroom.  I think a flogging might be cathartic.  There’s a heavy wooden ladder in the closet that attaches to the wall opposite the bed – the bolts are heavy so you’ll need a wrench to get everything set.  Put it at 15 degrees or so.  I prefer arms down for this sort of flogging.  There are eye bolts on the bottom of the ladder – make sure you leave him some slack to move his legs about if he needs to, a couple inches should be fine.  His cuffs are the red stitched ones, which should be somewhere in the boxes you boys packed earlier.  I’ll have you take him alone to bind him.  Feel free to work him over a bit – just your hands.  Talk to him to get him into a nice, slavey headspace.”

“Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.”  Maurus turned to get everything together he would need from the boxes which were stacked willy-nilly in the hall.

“And Maurus?”  Maurus turned back quickly to give Severus his full attention, “Take off your shirt, shoes, and socks for me.  Leave your pants on, though.  You’re pretty to look at, but there won’t be any intercourse for you here while you’re Lee’s ward.”

“Yes, sir.”  Maurus quickly stripped off the items Severus ordered, then went back to the boxes.

 

 

Harry, meanwhile, was doing dishes.  It was cold in the dungeons, and he was starting to resent being naked.  He was more than a little pissy about doing dishes.  _An elf really could do this._   Then he was pissy with himself for not being a natural slave like in the books.  Then he went back to being upset about the cold.  _I wonder if this is what Severus would be like all the time if I were really his slave?_

He startled as he felt a warming charm wash over him, then relaxed and glanced back over his shoulder gratefully.  Severus met his look with an icy glare.  “What the fuck do you think you’re looking at, asshole?”  Severus crossed the room like lightning and jerked Harry’s head back by the hair.  The dish he had been washing clattered noisily in the sink.  Harry felt his stomach lurch in fear and arousal, and his cock, which had wilted in the monotony of doing dishes, was once again straining upward.

“I…I’m sorry, s-sir,” Harry stuttered as he dropped his eyes.  He would have bowed his head in shame if Severus didn’t have his hair in a death grip. 

“You’re sorry _what_ , slave _?_ ” Severus gripped a bit tighter and pulled up.

Harry’s mind whirred trying to figure out what Severus wanted.  _Oh, fuck.  Can’t get anything right._ “I…I’m -I’m sorry, M-master.”  _I guess the boring part of this evening is over!  Game on!_

“Maurus, string him up for me, will you?”  Severus shoved Harry in Maurus’ direction.

Maurus had been standing nearby unnoticed and grabbed Harry roughly by the back of the neck while he was still off balance.  Harry was disoriented by the authoritative handling from sweet, gentle Maurus.  Once he was steady on his feet, Harry chanced a look at Maurus’ face, but what he saw gave him little comfort.  The habitual warm smile was gone, replaced by a glare hard enough to cut diamonds.  The toppy bearing was in odd contrast to the heavy locked collar he wore around his neck.  Harry raked his eyes down the rest of Maurus’ body, where a thin dusting of grey-blond fur highlighted his built but not overdone chest and torso.  There was a layer of fat over his abs which would be a pot in a few years.  Harry’s eyes paused for a moment on Maurus’ respectable package.  Realizing suddenly he was taking a bit of liberty with his eyes, he glanced quickly up to Maurus’ face, where a slight smirk played across his lips briefly before returning to a scowl.  Harry shuddered involuntarily.  _God, I like older men._

“C’mon, slaveboy.  Don’t keep Master waiting.” Maurus shoved Harry toward the bedroom, keeping a hand on the back of his neck.  _What the hell?  I never imagined Maurus like this.  What is happening?_   “Get those socks and jump boots on,” Maurus gestured to a pair of well-cared for but old boots that he had pulled out of Harry’s closet, and a pair of white socks tucked in to the tops.  Harry grabbed them and sat down on the bed to pull them on.  “Who the fuck said you could use Master’s bed?  Fuck, boy, sit on the floor to do that,” Maurus growled.  Harry stiffened, then hopped to comply.  _Merlin’s balls, this slave thing is hard to keep up._   Harry quickly put on the socks and boots.  “Cuffs on next, the ankle cuffs over your boots.”  While the cuffs were soft and nicely beveled, Maurus didn’t know how long Severus planned to flog, so he had Harry put the boots on to give his ankles some support.  Harry placed the cuffs and Maurus locked them all into place.

Maurus waited until Harry got to his feet, then directed him to the ladder, which he had fixed against the wall earlier as directed.  Harry hesitated a moment too long, and Maurus slapped his ass.  “C’mon, slaveboy.  Move.  Any idea how much pain I could deal you before Master gets back?”  Harry shuddered again and leaned against the ladder, grateful for the leather cushioning each step.  Out of habit (they had done a lot of punishment lately) Harry put his arms on the ladder above his head, but Maurus pulled them down to chest level and locked them to an eye bolt behind the ladder.  _Well, my cock likes this game,_ he thought to himself, staring down at his lap.  _I’m not sure about the rest of me though.  Does Severus know he’s doing this?_   At the same time, he knew Severus must know.  _Maurus wouldn’t do this without permission…  hell, without orders._   Maurus locked his ankle cuffs to the eye bolts on the inside of the ladder with a strap, leaving Harry the slack that Severus had requisitioned.

 “You like this, slave?  I can do anything I want to you, can’t I?”  Maurus slapped Harry’s ass hard several times, bringing up a nice, pink blush.  “You’d just take it, wouldn’t you?  I wonder what Master has planned for you.  Maybe he’ll whip you, tie you tight, hood you, piss on you.  Maybe he’ll just leave you hang here ‘till your time’s up, let you stew.  Might be good for you, learning to wait on someone else’s pleasure.”  As he spoke Maurus kneaded the muscles in Harry’s arms hard enough to come just this side of real pain.  “Maybe he’ll strap you, fuck you, shit on you.”

“He’s not into scat,” Harry corrected.  Maurus slammed into him with his full body from behind, knocking the wind out of him against the ladder.  “Guh!”

“Maybe _I’ll_ shit on you, shove some in your mouth behind a gag.  What happened to not talking without permission, boy?”  Maurus twisted his nipples painfully.

“Ahhhh!  Sorry, sir!”  Harry was starting to get a little nervous.  Maurus and he had never played before, and he really wasn’t into scat.

As though sensing his tension, Maurus continued, “I could do anything I wanted to you, couldn’t I, as long as there wasn’t any permanent damage?  Right up ‘till you said ‘red’.  Right, slave?”  He twisted Harry’s nipples again for emphasis.

“Yes, sir.  Ahhh!  Yes, sir.”  _He gave me a safeword.  And Severus is right here._  Harry allowed himself to relax into his role.  Maurus started to work him over methodically, pinching and kneading, then slapping a nice blush over Harry’s back and ass.  After a while, he sensed Severus behind him, so he wound down what he was doing and turned to face him, hands behind his back and head bowed just out of Harry’s line of sight.

Severus had checked on Draco and Joseph and rolled the patients onto their other sides before coming in.  He had watched Maurus put the finishing touches on Harry’s bondage, enjoying watching the older, but still fit, man work Harry over.  He would warn him later about Harry not safeing reliably.  For now, he laid out the three floggers he had selected, as well as several cold bottles of water.

Severus gestured Maurus over and cast _muffliato_ over Harry again.

“Having fun?”

“Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.”

“Let’s get to work, then.”  Severus cancelled the _muffliato_ and walked up to Harry.  “Ready to take some pain for me, slave?”

“Yes, Master.”  Harry’s voice shook a little bit.  He was still a bit shaken by Maurus’ actions, and Severus seemed a lot more distant than usual.  The disconnect was frightening him. 

Severus, picking up on Harry’s fear, rubbed his hands firmly but not painfully over Harry’s back.  “Don’t worry, slaveboy,” Severus whispered in his ear, “There won’t be anything you can’t handle.  I’m going to flog you.  Just ride it like you always do and we’ll have a good time.”  Harry nodded definitively, and Severus stepped away.

Harry could hear Severus stripping off his robes and shirt, and imagined him naked from the waist up, his usual ‘uniform’ when they played.  As he got more into it, he felt himself start to relax.  He moved his feet around until he was comfortable, then consciously relaxed his shoulders, back, and legs, allowing the frame to bear his weight.  He rested his forehead against one of the comfortably padded crossbars.

By the time Severus came back with the first flogger, Harry’s back was relaxed and presented nicely.  _Let’s go!_   He thought, but he knew better to say it.  Severus would do things in his own time, and after many years on the receiving end of Severus’ whip, Harry knew this would be a treat.  He wasn’t sure about Maurus watching, mainly because he had never imagined Maurus as he was now.  He forced himself not to think too much on it and drew his mind back to his body.

Severus put the flogger around his own neck for a moment, and firmly pushed his body up against Harry, sandwiching him lightly between the frame and his body.  He rubbed Harry’s nips for a moment, then backed off and drew the flogger across Harry’s shoulder.  Harry recognized it immediately.  It was a suede flogger with ½ inch falls, a bit over two feet long including the handle.  It was pretty gentle and, even at it’s most intense, still only moderate.  Harry usually thought it felt more like a massage than a flogging.

Without further ado, Severus checked to make sure Maurus wasn’t in range, and started a gentle figure of eight, mainly to gauge his distance and let Harry get used to being struck.  The skin didn’t even redden at first.  Harry relaxed further into the frame.  Gradually, Severus increased the intensity of the blows, and enjoyed watching the skin stripe first, then cross hatch, then grow evenly red all over.  As Severus worked, Harry’s muscles became more and more relaxed, and his mind started to wander to the neo-Death Eater investigation and Draco.  As though he could tell Harry wasn’t present anymore, Severus suddenly snapped the flogger at him like a wet towel.  Harry yelped and found himself back in his body as Severus started rhythmically working over his back again.  He started to increase the intensity quickly after that.

After an unmeasured and unmeasurable length of time, Harry’s consciousness felt like it was stretching beyond his skin.  Severus watched Harry start to slowly, rhythmically shake his head and groan, but Harry wasn’t aware of it.  Severus watched his muscles tense under each blow, then relax quickly.  Harry’s world shrunk to where skin met leather, processing each blow and just as quickly letting it go to absorb the next.  Severus continued to increase the intensity slowly.  At some point Severus must have switched to a heavier flogger, but Harry hadn’t noticed the transition.  The blows fell harder and stronger, and Harry’s voice rose shrill and the rhythmic head shake became faster and less coordinated.  He was drowning.

The flogging stopped suddenly, and Severus closed the distance between them.  He bit Harry’s shoulder and scratched the red and thickened skin of his back, leaving weeping white lines in his wake that reddened again in seconds.  He rubbed his cheeks, a little stubly at this time of day, against Harry’s sticky back.  Once Harry’s voice had come back to moans and groans, once his uncoordinated flailing had stopped, Severus backed off again, picked up the flogger and went back to work, a little more gently this time, and came back up more slowly.

Maurus watched from his place near the bed.  A wolfish feeling rose in him that he hadn’t felt in a long time.  Severus was fun to watch, and his good went beyond technique.  There was a barely contained predator in him, and the tension between the beast and the man played out in his dance with Harry.  Maurus hadn’t topped in 20 years, but suddenly it was like yesterday and he wanted to feel the whip in his own hand.  Maybe Severus would let him play with Harry some time.

Harry was once again moaning and shaking his head back and forth slowly.  At first, he was flooded with images – Draco falling in Diagon Alley, Jackson getting hit, the baby and it’s mother, Maurus with Joseph, Jackson meeting him at the door that morning and ordering him to the Alley, the piles of paper, Ron awkwardly asking about spanking.  Suddenly, or as suddenly as something can happen in a place with no time, he had dropped into himself, to the place where self stretches to infinity and disappears, the place beyond image and word.  Distant above him, where his skin bounded his universe, he could hear Severus (or was it him?) grunting and feel the rhythmic play of leather on his back.  If he focused, he could feel his muscles move under his skin in the dance he knew he did from what people told him.  But what was important was that point of becoming, the point without words.  He felt on the verge of something.  He was about to understand something, but it was just out of reach.

Severus flew Harry like a kite, increasing and decreasing tension to keep him up until, finally, the wind started to die down.  He gestured to Maurus to bring him a cane – Harry would need to be brought back somewhat authoritatively from the long trip he was on.  Maurus recognized the gesture and dug in the closet Severus had pointed to until he found them.  Not knowing what Severus had in mind, he brought back a nursery cane, a junior cane, and a senior cane.  Severus moved the flogger to his left hand, and took the junior cane in his right, moving his body around to Harry’s right to give himself a good working angle.  Without letting up the rhythm of the flogging, he started to add a light cane stroke, just a flick of his wrist, from time to time.  As he increased the intensity of the caning, dialed down the intensity of the flogging.  Harry relaxed again into the frame. 

“12 strokes, Harry.  Count for me.  Only the good ones.”  In 20 years, Maurus thought to himself, tops hadn’t developed any new tricks.  Harry would control how fast he came down by counting only the ones he wanted to.  Severus brought up the intensity of the strokes until Harry counted, then varied the intensity up and down.  As Harry came down from his high, he found lighter strokes more intense and counted more of them.  Finally, he hit 12 and they were done.

Severus, drenched in sweat, came up behind Harry and pressed his body full length against him, once again firmly sandwiching Harry against the ladder.  Harry’s back was sticky with edema fluid which had wept from his skin during the flogging, but Severus held him tight anyway.  Harry was quietly sobbing, and Severus waited until the little shakes and sniffles stopped before having Maurus unclip him.  Once he was free and steady on his feet, Harry knelt and kissed Severus’ boots, first the left then the right, and then rested his check on the left boot, stroking the other with his left hand.  Severus let him stay there for several minutes, until Harry started to pull away.  He helped pull him back up and maneuvered him to the bed.  “You were beautiful, Harry,” Severus whispered, gently ghosting his fingers over Harry’s back and then rubbing out his legs and arms.  They had been at it for a couple of hours.  “You okay?”

Harry couldn’t talk.  He just looked up at Severus as though the question didn’t make any sense and started crying again.

Maurus quietly gathered up the equipment and set it neatly to the side for later cleaning.  He left he ladder where it was, then, when Severus looked up at him, glanced at the door.  Severus nodded, Maurus’ meaning clear.  He backed out of the room without a word, leaving Harry and Severus alone.

Harry pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed to accept the water Severus was holding out and, after taking a sip, leaned forward to rest his head against Severus’ chest.  “Thank you, sir, thank you.” Harry muttered again and again.  Then, unexpectedly, he was back in the place inside himself where infinite space stretched forth, and he knew.

He jerked upright and tried to tell Severus – the baby and Jackson, their medical reports weren’t in the thousands of papers.  They should have been.  They had both been hit by the curse, and he _knew_ the baby’s medical scan had been done – he saw it happen.  It should have automatically duplicated to the Auror files.  Someone had taken out.  The unknown potion.  It was activated by the curse, but the ‘curse’ wasn’t a curse, really, it just activated the potion – the baby had never had the potion; he remembered it wasn’t on the scan.  The curse didn’t do anything itself.  The baby was too young to have ingested anything but mother’s milk.  And Jackson… something about Jackson.  And that’s why Slytherin was underrepresented in the casualties; the old families had simply kept their children from getting the potion somehow or reversed it after it was given.  The curse couldn’t touch them then.

That was also why the healers couldn’t cure it – they were trying to heal a curse rather than reverse a potion.

He tried to tell Severus, but he couldn’t put words together.  He jabbered and muttered incoherently.  But Harry knew.  He put his head back on Severus’ chest and waited while Severus stroked a calming hand through his hair.  He knew.


	12. Harry's Theory

Harry woke early the next morning to a sticky sensation against his cheek.  _Ugh.  Sleeping in my own drool.  So not sexy!_ He was unmoved from where he must have fallen asleep in Severus’ arms the night before, still wearing the boots Maurus had had him put on.  He was on his belly straddling Severus’ left leg, his head pillowed on Severus’ chest.   He unstuck his face from his lover and looked up to see Severus regarding him with an unreadable expression.

“So, Harry?  How did slavery treat you?”

“Is it over?”  Harry was still a little groggy.

“Yes, it’s morning.  We both turned into pumpkins at midnight, it would appear.”

“I didn’t like doing dishes, but I liked it when you guys played with me,” Harry said with a smile, before wiping off Severus’ chest with a sheet and putting his head back down.  He listened to Severus’ heartbeat and felt his head lift and drop with his respiration.

“What did you feel while you were doing dishes?”

Harry thought for a moment.  He hadn’t felt particularly slave like.  “Angry.  Or perhaps that’s too strong a word for most of it.   Pissy.  And angry sometimes.”

“Why?”

Harry looked up curiously at Severus, “Are you going to psychoanalyze me?”

“No.  But both of us need to understand how being a slave, or even playing a slave, makes you feel and what effects it has on you.  If you like, think of this as just an extension of your slavery… you have an obligation to be transparent.  You have that anyway as my boy, to an extent, but much more so as my slave.  Answer the question, Harry.”

“I don’t know.  I guess… I felt dismissed, less-than.  Hell, a house elf could have done the dishes!”

“Indeed.  A house elf is also a slave.”

Harry laughed a little.  “Yeah, I had the same thought.  I tried to talk myself into it, but I guess I’m not a natural slave.”

“If it makes any difference, I’ve never met one.”

“One what?”

“A natural slave,” Severus clarified, “I’ve never met a natural slave.  If you’re still curious, you might ask Maurus about how he got himself to being a slave; it’s not something I have any experience with, other than on the Master end.  Becoming and being a slave is a different sort of work than Mastering.”

 “So… did I please you?”

“Very much, Harry.”

“If I were really your slave, would you have made me sleep on the floor last night?”

Severus thought for a long while.  “Harry, even if you were my slave, you would never be ‘just’ my slave.  We already have a wonderful relationship, and I’m not willing to do it the violence required to cram it into a Master/slave mold.  If you were my slave, I’m not sure I’d have you sleep on the floor at all, as I’ve come to like you in my bed.  Of course, if you were flopping around like a fish, I’d probably kick you out and not feel at all guilty about doing it.  All of that said, there is no slave, however distant our relationship, I would have made sleep on the floor if they were as far gone as you were last night.”

“So, can I play at being your slaveboy again?”  Harry asked in a lighter tone than he felt.

“As long as you understand that, no matter how playful, it isn’t all play.  While you’re my slave, I’ll treat you as a slave.  Some of it might change the way you think about yourself, and some of it might change the way you think about me.  If you want to be my slave, present yourself as you did last night.  If there are limits, you let me know them, as well as how long you want to enter into my service.  Then I’ll tell you my own terms – how long and what conditions, or deny you entirely.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.”

“You can stop at any time, however once you stop you turn back into my boy, and we’d both have to agree again before you went back to playing slave.  Understand?

“Yes, sir.”  Harry didn’t know why being Severus’ slave, or doing a good job, made him so happy, but it did.

“Good boy.  Now, you owe me an essay, and Maurus your thanks for his involvement in our playtime yesterday.”  With that, Severus tried to nudge Harry off.  Harry, however didn’t budge.

“Severus?”

“Hmmm?”

“I think I know what’s going on with the neo-Death Eaters.  At least I thought I did last night.  You know how sometimes, though, you have a dream and solve a problem, and then you wake up and none of it makes sense anymore?”

“Yes… That has certainly happened.  The good thing about solving problems in your dreams is you get outside the box, the bad thing is your reality checking isn’t completely in order.”

“Well, while you were flogging me, I suddenly understood something, but I’m not sure it will pan out.  So, I told you about that baby, you know the one who was with his mom and was hit by the curse, but only the mom was affected?  At first, I thought it was because he hadn’t really been hit so I didn’t think much of it, but then I realized… he was at the hospital, and I know he had a diagnostic scan because I saw it done.  All of the diagnostic scans done in criminal cases are automatically duplicated to the appropriate file in the DMLE.  _I’m the one_ who has those files right now, and there wasn’t an infant’s report there.  So that’s the first thing.  Then I realized, Jackson was also hit, and there is no report for him in my files.  But I know he was scanned, too, because after an engagement like that we’re all routinely scanned to make sure that there aren’t any latent curses.”

The old spy’s eyebrows rose.  This didn’t seem like the sort of insight that evaporated like a dream in the morning. 

“So that’s two missing reports, both of them in cases where the curse hit but didn’t take effect,” Harry continued, warming to his subject.  “The thing is, I know what the infant’s report said, because I was there, and looked… you know, when the baby kicked it off, I picked it up.  It’s probably still in my pocket somewhere.  It showed he _had_ been hit by the curse.  But there was something missing… that child hadn’t had the unknown potion, you know X – Unknown you see on the rest.  I didn’t put it together at the time.”

“You didn’t put it together?” Severus asked harshly, “First, you walk off with someone’s medical record, and second you completely miss why the baby had an atypical response to the curse.”

Harry tensed, “I’m sorry, sir,” Harry began in a contrite tone,  “I was not in my normal state of mind.  It was absolute chaos, and Draco was dying and…” Suddenly Harry felt his anger flare, “ _you made me go back to work you FUCKING ASSHOLE!  You sent me into that mess.”_  

Severus took several deep breaths, and Harry froze in place.  _Crap.  I can’t believe I just called him an asshole.  I’m soooooo screwed_.  Then Severus spoke, his voice calm despite the tension Harry could feel thrumming through his body, “And it was the right thing to do.  You are an Auror, and you have to go to work when all hell breaks loose.  If you don’t want that role, you know how to resign your position.  Meanwhile,” Severus put a finger under Harry’s chin and forced him to look up, “adjust the attitude or I’ll have to adjust it for you.”

“Like you know anything about it,” Harry huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Infuriating boy,” Severus spat, “You’re lucky Draco isn’t awake to see that, although I’m tempted to take a strap to you in his honor.  As it is, I do know something about going to work when I’d rather not.  Remember, the whole double agent/spy thing I kept up for almost 20 years?  Because, sure, after the love of my fucking life died, I really _felt like_ going back to the Dark Lord and groveling and kissing his feet.  And when the Dark Lord came back, I really _wanted_ to go face death and torture.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Severus.  Of course you know what it’s like.  It’s just, I’d rather have not.  And in any case, I didn’t put it all together at the time, but I’m trying to now.”

Severus waited until his heart rate had gone down and his breathing slowed, “Go on.”

“Okay, so there are the missing reports – meaning someone who has access is filtering what I see.  And there is the missing potion on the infant’s report, which might explain why the curse didn’t work? Is that a thing?”

“Yes, it’s a rare way of constructing a potion.  It means the damage is really not due to the curse at all, but rather the curse simply triggers the effect of the potion.  Since all of these people came into St. Mungo’s stating they had been ‘cursed’, of course everyone was focused on the curse.  I’m not sure your single example, though, proves that that is the structure of the magic being used.  For one thing, if the only thing the curse did was trigger the potion, no one would have been distracted.”

“But you could make a curse that does a bunch of distracting things _and_ triggers the potion.”

“You could, but again, you need more than one person who was hit by the curse without the potion to make your case.  The infant may simply have had other immunity.”

“But that’s the thing, right?  We’re only seeing, only paying attention to the victims of the curse, but there is definitely a pattern to who is being affected.  Look at your Slytherins versus the other houses.  Why are they so underrepresented when the attacks seem so random?  Easy, you _attack_ at random, flinging the curse about indiscriminately, but the potion and who is exposed to it is controlled.  An infant that age… he was still nursing.  No potion exposure.  Your Slytherins could be either protected from ingestion, or, if there is an antidote, given the antidote regularly.”

“It should be easily enough for the DMLE to check into this, track down individuals who were hit but not affected.  Perhaps you could go through your chain of command?”  Severus asked the final question a little too lightly, and Harry glanced up to see his face. 

 _Great.  Another time the Great Harry Potter can’t just obey orders, follow the chain of command like a good little Auror_.  “Severus, I wish I could just tell Jackson, who would be the usual person to tell, however there are two problems.  First, he hates my guts and thinks I’m an annoying upstart who can’t follow orders.”

Severus grunted.

“Second,” Harry continued, deciding to ignore the grunt, “He was hit by the curse and not affected.  For all I know, he’s the one controlling the information that comes to me, keeping the hit but unaffected people out of it.”

Severus paused.  “Let’s talk more about Jackson, then.  Anything else make you suspicious?”

“Well, he was the one who ordered me to go to Diagon the day Draco was hit, although I don’t know why he would have wanted me there if… unless, of course, he wanted me to be hit?  I don’t know why…” Harry trailed off.

“Because the purpose of all of this recent neo-Death Eater activity is to scare people, cause panic, and divert resources.  If you were hit, the entire Wizarding world would watch you die a slow and horrible death.  The media would probably put pictures of you wasting away in the papers.”

“Oh.”  Harry’s mouth was suddenly dry as he realized how close he had come to laying where Draco lay.

“I’m not saying that’s what happened, Harry,” Severus added quickly, picking up on Harry’s spike of fear,  “At this point you need to stop and think through all the possibilities so you know what evidence you have and what evidence you still need.  It isn’t a Sherlock Holmes mystery where everything suddenly clicks together and there is no doubt.”

Harry steadied himself for a moment.  “The other thing about Jackson.  He objected very strongly to me being put on the case, even on the back end.  I heard him yelling in the hallway about it.”

“It could just fit in with the whole ‘hates your guts’ thing, but yes, it could also be that he wanted someone less competent on the job,” Severus mused.

Harry felt himself glow for a moment.  _He thinks I’m competent!_ “So, you agree that I probably shouldn’t go through my chain of command?”

“Harry, it’s a _chain_.  So you don’t report to Jackson, you report to his boss….”

“But Robards _hates_ me!” Harry flopped himself off of Severus’ chest to look up at the ceiling.

“Surely he’s professional enough to put that aside and address your concerns?” 

Harry thought for a moment.  “I think he’d be more likely to take my concerns seriously, especially given that I’m avoiding Jackson due to concerns about him, if I have more pulled together before I give my report.”

“Is there someone else who can present what you have so far, perhaps informally, so that you can get more information about the people who were hit but not affected?”

Harry didn’t need to think even a moment about that.  “Ron!”


	13. Out of the Closet

Harry leapt out of bed.  He could talk to Ron who, while not considered a rising star, was generally well-liked in the department.  If Harry could bring Ron on board, Ron could probably convince Robards or someone else to get the reports on other people who were hit by the curse but hadn’t been affected.  Harry quickly pulled on his jeans, a white t-shirt, and his trusty jump boots and started to run out of the bedroom.

“Harry, your boots are scuffed!” Severus yelled after him.  Harry redirected without loosing speed, grabbed some Kiwi and a brush from the closet, and quickly touched up the scuffs.  Then he flung everything back into the closet willy-nilly, then went running out the door again.  “Harry, thank Maurus!”

“Yes, sir!”  Harry called back over his shoulder to Severus, slamming into Maurus, who had been walking down the hallway to the bathroom when Harry passed through the door.  “Ugh,” Harry grunted as the breath was knocked out of him, “Sorry, Maurus!  Thank you for last night!”  He was still running down the hall, calling over his shoulder to Maurus.  He narrowly missed a wall before turning the corner to the living room, throwing some floo powder in, and yelling, “Weasley-Granger residence!”

Severus appeared at the doorway of their bedroom a few seconds later, having hastily thrown on a robe when he heard Harry crash into Maurus.  “That child is a menace,” Severus sighed. 

Maurus just shook his head and laughed.  “Sir, based on your reputation, I had no idea you would be so tolerant.”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Do not tell a soul, Maurus.  Not a soul.”

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Harry tumbled from the fireplace into Ron and Hermione’s living room, tripping over a pile of books that had been left on the hearth to land on hands and knees.

“Oh!” He heard Hermione gasp as he righted himself.  He raised his head in the direction of the noise just in time to see a very red-cheeked Hermione pulling herself up quickly from over Ron’s knee and shoving her skirt back into place.  “Harry!  So good to see you!”  Her smile was unnaturally wide, and her voice a little too high.  Ron, meanwhile, was shoving what looked like a paddle under a nearby cushion.

“Hi, Hermione, Ron.  Did I come at a bad time?”  Harry did his best to pretend he had not just seen his best friend spanking his other best friend.

Ron stood to meet Harry, offering a hand, “Not at all, Harry.  It’s been so long since you stopped by!”

“Can I get you some tea?”  Hermione ran from the room before anyone had a chance to answer, leaving Harry and Ron alone.

“Does she know I know?” Harry asked.

“No.  Probably better if she doesn’t, if it’s all the same to you, mate.”

“She might not want to leave those books lying around, then.”  Harry gestured to the books he had tripped over: _Consensual Spanking_ and _Domestic Discipline_ by Jules Markham, as well as a couple of wizarding law books.

“Merlin,” Ron grumbled, shaking his head as he picked them up and put them under a side table.

“Does she want a discipline relationship with you?  Or just spanking?”

“I don’t know, Harry.  She’s still researching.  Once she has read every single book on the subject, she will no doubt clue me in.  Meanwhile, she wants spanking.”

“What do you want, though?”

“Once again, I notice you know way too much about this stuff,” Ron commented as he pulled his face, “As far as what I want, I don’t know.  A happy wife, for one.  Spanking seems pretty harmless, although it freaked me out at first.  If it makes her happy, it makes me happy. She’s started to talk a little bit about a discipline relationship, but I don’t know about that.”

“Oh.  Too weird?”

“I was raised never to hit girls, and certainly not to boss them around.  Have you met my mother?” Ron and Harry laughed.

“Well, my relationship with Severus and Draco… we do more than spank.”

“Oh, is it one of those discipline relationships?”

“Yeah.  So, if you have any questions… I can’t really speak to the Head of House angle, but I can speak from a sub perspective.  Although we don’t really do it like Markham’s book; our flavor is a bit different.”

“But not vanilla.”

“No,” Harry laughed, “Definitely not vanilla!”

The two men chatted and laughed until Hermione returned with the tea, her blush returning as she entered the room.

“So, what brings you here so early on a Saturday morning, Harry?” Hermione asked after she had poured out.

“Oh!  I completely forgot!  I think I figured something out with the neo-Death Eater attacks but wanted to run it by you two.”  While Ron had become an Auror after Hogwarts, Hermione had studied wizarding law and worked in the DMLE as a lawyer.  She had political ambitions and was well known to the members of the Wizengamot.

“Great, Harry.  What’s on your mind?” Ron asked, sitting back with his tea.  Hermione leaned forward to listen, grimaced slightly, then shifted to sit on the side of her tush. 

_I recognize that dance._ Harry smiled to himself as he watched Hermione.  Realizing he had been asked a question, he looked back at Ron.  “Huh?”

“What’s on your mind, Harry?” Hermione repeated for her husband, “You know, neo-Death Eaters?”

“Oh, right.  Neo-Death Eaters.  Ummm… so, I think the curse isn’t really a curse at all.  You see, all the people we have scans on who were affected by the curse had the curse itself, but also an unknown potion in their system.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward again with interest, then pressed her lips together and leaned quickly back to the side again, “How do you know they aren’t true-true-unrelated?”

“Huh?”  Harry always felt stupid around Hermione.

“You know, a coincidence, Harry.  How do you know it isn’t a coincidence?” 

“Well, there was one person, an infant, who I saw struck by the curse but wasn’t affected.  On his medical report, he had the curse listed but not the potion.”

Over the next several minutes, Harry explained what evidence he had and what he thought was going on.  He expressed his concerns about Jackson, as well as the reports he was sure he was missing.  Hermione became more and more serious as Harry gave evidence for possible corruption.

“What I need,” Harry finally started to wrap up, “Is to have the medical reports for people who were struck by the curse, but not affected.  At the very least, I saw Jackson get hit – so his report should have come to my file.”

“I wonder what level your file is being filtered at, Harry,” Hermione mused, “After all, Robards would be within his scope to hold back another Auror’s medical report.  It doesn’t necessarily mean Jackson is a neo-Death Eater.”

“You think Robards might be a neo-Death Eater?” Harry’s eyebrows rose on his forehead.

“ _No_ , Harry.  I am suggesting that one possible explanation for Jackson’s report not being in the file is that Robards was trying to protect his privacy.”

“Oh.  Somehow far less compelling that way,” Harry muttered.

“Well, Harry,” Ron said, standing up, “I’ll poke around Monday at work, see what I can find out.  Hermione and I have some, ahh… unfinished business to attend to.”

“Yes, Harry,” Hermione added, blushing as she stood to join her husband. “I’ll also check around to see what you might be able to do to requisition the additional reports you need.  It may be something you can do legally without your chain of command being involved too heavily; having your chain of command would get you additional manpower, though.” 

“Thanks, guys.  Sorry for interrupting your morning.”  Harry gave a broad grin to both as he stepped back into the floo.

Once Harry was gone, Hermione turned to Ron, “Do you think he knows what we were doing?” She asked worriedly.

“Nah,” Ron said dismissively, sitting back down on the sofa and taking a firm hold of her left arm, “I had the paddle stowed by the time he got to his feet.”  He pulled her across his lap, adding sternly  “Those books, however, shouldn’t be left where our guests can trip over them.”  Hermione’s head, which had dropped by that point to the level of Ron’s calf, popped up abruptly.

“You don’t think…?” 

Ron pushed her head back down, “Head down.  Stick your bottom out.  Feet apart.”  Once she had assumed the appropriate position, Ron flipped up her skirt.

“But Ron…. Oh, Merlin.  You don’t think he saw the Markham books, do you?”

Ron rubbed his hand over her ass, still very slightly pink from their earlier, interrupted spanking.  “He didn’t mention if he did, Hermione, and in any case it’s too late to worry about that now.  We’ll add an extra five minutes of spanking for leaving your books lying around.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Harry managed to exit the floo without tripping as he returned to his own living room, still smiling at the conversation he had had with Ron and Hermione.  He shook his head and started toward the kitchen to make himself breakfast when he heard Severus yell, “Harry, come here.  I’m in the study.”  _Crap.  Now what?  He sounds serious._

Harry let himself into the study and waited for Severus to fold the letter he had been writing before handing it off to a house elf to post.  “Harry, you need to write that essay for me.  Sit there,” he pointed to a smaller desk across the room from his own, “until it is done.”  Severus rose to put a piece of parchment, quill, and ink on the desk for Harry, while Harry sat down and sulked over the imposition on his Saturday morning.

“Severus, I haven’t had breakfast yet,” Harry reminded him.

“You should eat breakfast before you run off, next time.”

“But I wasn’t hungry, then.  I’m hungry now, Severus.”

“Essay first, Harry.  You wandered about the wilderness starving for a year without dying.  I’m sure you can manage to wait until your essay is done before you eat.”

Harry scowled down at the desk making no move to pick up his quill.

“Harry, delaying doesn’t make the work any less.  When you are done with your essay, come and get me.  I’ll be in the sick room.”

Severus turned and Harry to his work, robes billowing behind him.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Maurus had been sitting by Joseph’s bedside since early that morning, with the brief exception of his trip to the bathroom when he was nearly taken out by Harry.  He was reading a Muggle book on nursing, and every so often reached out to run his hand over Joseph’s foot.  Sometimes he would catch himself staring off into space, reminiscing about their time together: the first time they met, the day Joseph collared him, and the thousand little things that added together make twenty years – doing laundry, washing dishes, cooking Joseph’s favorite foods, the way Joseph would puff out one cheek when he was thinking.

It had been a little over a week since Joseph had been hit, and his toes were already pointing, Maurus thought idly.  He wondered if he should get some … he flipped back to the appropriate page in his nursing manual … multi-podus boots.  As there was no cure for the curse, did it matter what his ‘rehab potential’ was?  Maurus sighed.  He would ask Severus about getting the boots.  He had no way to order anything without his computer.

He looked back down at the book and started to read again, becoming aware as he did so that Severus had come up to stand beside him.

“How are you holding up, Maurus?”

“I’m fine, I guess.  Better than he is,” Maurus gestured to the bed and tried to keep a stiff upper lip, but tears ran down his face.  It was easier when no one asked how he was.  “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Maurus.  I realize that you are rather cut off, staying here.  Do you want to visit your family?”

Maurus snorted.  “My family kicked me out when I told them I was gay.  Master is the only family I have.”  Maurus ran a possessive hand over Joseph’s foot.

“Friends?”

“Yes, I have friends.  I haven’t wanted to impose on them.  I’m not sure I’m ready to tell anyone what has happened.”

“Well, think about it.  I was going to have Harry watch tomorrow, and I can take a day off next week if that would work better for you.”  Severus paused for a moment, “Maurus, I was going to run another visualization spell, to see how Joseph’s magic is standing up to the curse.”

“I remember you running it that first night.  Go ahead.”  Maurus stood and moved away from the bed.  Severus cast the spell and, unlike the first time, when the color of Joseph’s magic extended several feet out from him with only a little darkening about the edges, this time Joseph’s magic only extended a foot or so from his body and was dark throughout.

Severus turned back to Maurus, a dark look on his face.  “I am going to go talk to Lee.  I’ll be back in a few hours.  Harry is in the study if you need any help.”  With that, he turned and began to stride purposefully from the study.

 

“Sir,” Maurus called after him.  Severus turned, annoyed at having been interrupted.  “May I speak freely, sir?”

Severus pressed his lips together, frustrated at the delay.  “Go on.”

Maurus looked Severus fiercely in the eye.  “I would prefer if you would speak to _me_ about my partner’s health.  I’m a slave, not a child.”

Severus paused, “I… I’m sorry, of course.  I also need to ask Lee for permission to take some blood.”

“I’m his power of attorney, not Lee.”

Severus was abashed.  “I apologize.  I have made some assumptions I shouldn’t have,” Severus took a deep breath.  “Why don’t you sit down.”

Maurus teared up.  “That bad?”  Severus nodded, and Maurus fell back into his seat next to Joseph as though his legs had been cut out from under him.

“As you know, wizards who have been cursed with _expergiscimini exitium_ can live up to a year.  Joseph seems to be progressing very quickly, though.  His magic is very dark, and his aura extends only about 10 percent of what it did a week ago.  Once his magic has been consumed, the curse will start to feed on his body.  He’ll start to waste.  I don’t know how long he will have once he starts to waste; there is no reason to expect that his body will last a longer or shorter period than his magic.  I have heard, however, from the healers at St. Mungos that the cases where the magic is consumed faster also have faster physical wasting afterward.”

Having given told Maurus all he knew, Severus fell silent.  Maurus shook with sobs and, after a few minutes, Severus awkwardly moved closer to kneel in front of the crying man and draw him close.  Maurus leaned his forehead against Severus’ chest and wailed.

It was an hour later before Maurus had cried himself out.  Severus’ front was wet with snot and tears, and his knees ached.  Maurus finally leaned back and looked up at Severus briefly, then put a hand over his eyes.  “I’m sorry, Sir.  I…”

“It’s fine, Maurus.  I just wish I had better news.”

“You said you needed some blood?”

“Harry has come up with a theory, based on the information he has access to at his work, that the curse is really only a trigger for a potion, which would have been ingested at some point prior to the day Joseph was struck down.  I hoped to get some blood from him and Draco, an infant we know of who was struck by the curse but not affected, as well as some people who have ingested the potion but not yet been triggered.  I think I may be able to isolate the potion, or at least understand how it works… and from there, hopefully, come up with an antidote.”

Maurus looked as though he was going to rip Severus’ throat out with his bare hands. “You let me completely despair of Joseph for the last Merlin-knows-how-long without telling me that?”  He yelled.

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up.  I doubt I will have anything in time to save him.”

Maurus deflated as suddenly as he had puffed up.  “Oh.”

“And Maurus?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Watch the attitude.”

Maurus gracefully fell to his knees, crossed his wrists behind his straight back, and bowed his head.  “Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.”  He radiated pride rather than humility as he did this and Severus thought, not for the first time, that ritual is sometimes the only thing that holds a man together when he reaches the end of himself.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Having collected blood from Joseph and Draco, Severus placed the vials in his laboratory and returned to his study, expecting to find Harry still sitting at the desk.  Instead, there was a completed essay and no Harry.  Severus went to the kitchen and found Harry eating a sandwich with his back to the door.

“What part of ‘come get me when you are finished’ did you not understand?” Severus asked harshly, and Harry jumped out of the chair.

“Sorry, sir.  I finished and went to the sick room like you said, but you and Maurus were… well, occupied.”

Severus sighed.  “Then you _wait_ for me to finish.  You don’t wander off and make yourself a sandwich.”

Harry put the hand with the half-eaten sandwich behind his back.  “Sorry, sir.”

“You know I still know the sandwich is there, so why are you hiding it behind your back?”

Harry put the sandwich on the table and dropped his gaze to the floor.  “Sorry, sir.”

“Come, let’s discuss that essay of yours.”


	14. Control/Obedience

Severus, setting the essay aside, looked over his desk at Harry, who sat nervously in an armless chair on the other side.  Harry hated sitting nearby when someone read something he had written.  “When you say you want to be a slave, what do you imagine it would be like?” Severus finally asked.

“I… well, I figure you’d be in charge, you know? Maurus said that slavery is about obedience on the part of the slave and control on the part of the Master.”

“You realize that you are already obligated to obey me based on our current understanding – you just fail to.  Do you need me to exert more control?”

“I… I’m sorry.  I just forget myself and then go off the rails.”

“Do you need some things to remind you of your place?  I could certainly impose some protocols to help you remember.”

“Like when Maurus kneels?”

“My guess is what you are seeing is what remains of him presenting for Joseph.  Some Master/slave couples have the slave kneel whenever entering a room the Master is in, or when the Master comes into a room the slave is in.  Since Joseph isn’t entirely ‘slave’ here, he does it inconsistently.”

“I’d feel funny about doing that.”

“I wouldn’t ask you how you felt about it, Harry.  I’d order you to do what I thought best.”

Harry flushed.  He liked it when Severus got all toppy.  “Yes, sir.  I think I need you to exercise more control.”

Severus didn’t like having a lot of protocol because then he had to enforce the protocol, and that took time and energy.  _If there is one time in my life I don’t need this, it is now,_ Severus thought to himself, _Draco is sick, I need to follow up on Harry’s idea about a potion being the core of the curse, there’s a dying man and an extra slave to suddenly absorb on short notice.  Still, Harry has been asking for this consistently since he heard about Joseph and Maurus – picking a fight then fighting discipline, requesting to be a slave repeatedly._ Severus looked at the essay again.  _It reads like a petition to be my slave,_ he mused. 

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair as Severus thought.  Severus looked him over – he was most certainly a young man now, but in some ways very fragile.  His world had suddenly turned more dangerous than it had been in a long time, and external control by a friendly power would probably help him feel more secure. 

 “Fine, I’ll think of something.  You are dismissed.  Tell Maurus to come here so I can talk to him.”

“Yes, sir!”  Harry said, then turned and hurried out. 

Severus sighed.  The trick would be balancing Harry’s need for increased control with his need for affection. 

His thoughts were cut off when Maurus knocked politely and, after being waved in by Severus, came to stand in front of the desk.  He crossed his wrists behind his back and bowed his head.  “You asked for me, sir?”

“Sit down, Maurus.  Don’t ‘sir’ me now.  You and I need to get clear on some things after your little outburst in the sick room.”

Maurus sat down in the chair, paling slightly, “Yes, sir.”  He kept his eyes down and waited for Severus to speak.

Severus waited an uncomfortable minute.  “Look up, Maurus.  This isn’t the kind of conversation where I dress you down for not acting slavish enough.  We have both been so busy caring for the sick and dealing with emotional fallout, not to mention Harry investigating the neo-Death Eaters and me working on an antidote, that we haven’t clarified your role in my household.”

Maurus looked Severus in the eyes, as ordered, then dropped his eyes again.  “Yes, sir.”

“Are you _trying_ to provoke me, Maurus?” Severus stood up, bracing his hands on the desk and glowering down at Maurus.

Maurus looked up again quickly, “No, si… I mean, Severus.  I’d never provoke you purposely. I just… I can tell you’re pissed off, and appropriately so, and … well, I guess I’m presenting my belly to the alpha male.”  Maurus rubbed his eyes.  “Pitiful, I know.”  He looked down again, this time focusing on his knees.

Severus plopped back into his chair.  “This has been a long week for everyone.  Let’s keep this short – do you want to be my houseguest while you’re here, or a submissive?”

“I’m a slave and have been for almost twenty years now,” Maurus answered quickly, “I… well, Joseph would lend me out sometimes.  He would negotiate the terms and just tell me what they were.  That is how I think of myself now – Joseph’s slave on loan.  Although I understand your hesitation to allow me to serve you sexually, which would normally be the whole point.”

“Do you want me to negotiate terms with Lee?”

“No… this is fine.”

“Since you brought up sex, lets start there.  Did Joseph control your orgasms?”

“Yes, si… Severus.”

“I won’t.  You are free to jack off or fuck as you like.  If you pick up a trick, I need to know about it so that I can ensure your safety.  You aren’t to go home with anyone else.”

“Is Harry off limits?”

Severus looked appraisingly at Maurus for a moment.  “Not in principle.  If you two want to have vanilla sex, that’s fine, assuming he agrees to it.  Anything else and I need to be involved, for his protection more than yours.  He gives confusing signals and doesn’t safe reliably.  And since Harry doesn’t go for vanilla… I’ll need to be involved.”  Severus thought for a minute.  “How about this – you can play, but I have to be present for negotiations as well as the play.”

“Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.”

“Drop the ‘sir’ until we’re done negotiating.  Next, SM between the two of us?”

“Yes, si… Severus.”

“Limits?”

“Scat, bloodplay, permanent marks.”

“Perfect,” Severus smiled broadly, “Matches mine exactly.  I add to that another limit for you – you are not to do anything illegal or unethical while a member of my household.  Now, about safewords.  I generally don’t have safewords for my own slaves, but you aren’t really my slave.  I’ll give you one if you want one. Otherwise whatever we are doing will stop if you say ‘stop’.  If you call me by my given name we’ll pause and discuss.  If I need to speak to you, I’ll call you by your given name.  Otherwise, I usually call you boy, slave, or… well, whatever I want to call you, to be honest.”

“I don’t need a safeword, then.  I’ll just say stop or call you Severus.”

“Are you a masochist?”

“Not heavy.  I will take what you give me, sir, out of obedience, I take pleasure in that.”

“And you are sure you want to be a slave here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you agree to obey me without argument?  To allow me to discipline and punish you as I see fit while you are here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“A final point to our negotiation, although there will be some fine-tuning later on I’m sure: I want you to understand what will happen if you resume control of yourself at any point.  If you withdraw your consent, you will be our houseguest until Lee takes you back or Joseph regains his health… or you decide to do your own thing.  Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.”

“Now, what do you need from me?”

Maurus thought for a minute.  “Just some kind of structure while Joseph is dying.  Letting me cry all over your chest was very kind.  You have already included me in your family.  And you?”

“Just your obedience.  I would like for you to write down your understanding of the conversation we just had.  You’ll find ink and quill at that desk,” Severus gestured to Harry’s desk and handed Maurus a piece of parchment.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Severus, who had left the study while Maurus worked, returned just as Maurus finished his summary.  In his right hand he carried the well-worn 18 inch strap that usually hung in the work room.  He stood in front of Harry’s desk as Maurus placed the final period.  Maurus looked up, his eyes sweeping over Severus before locking on the strap.  Severus took the parchment and glanced it over to confirm it had all the important points, then set it back on the desk.  He put a finger under Maurus’ chin and forced him to look him in the eye.  “This isn’t a punishment, Maurus.  You need to know that I will control you, and this is the demonstration.  I find it easier to take care of this up front, rather than waiting for you to test limits or provoke me.”

Maurus closed his eyes and bowed his head.  He would rather not.  It had been a long day and it wasn’t even noon.  Severus waited for a long minute before Maurus finally responded.  “If it pleases you, sir.”

“Slave-speak for, ‘I’d rather not’.  I prefer an enthusiastic, ‘Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.’”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Harry lay upside down on the sofa with his booted feet on the wall and his head hanging toward the floor, reading the sports section of the _Daily Prophet_.  He hadn’t played Quidditch since he had graduated, but he still liked to follow the professional league.  A cup of tea, long since gone cold, was sitting on its saucer on the seat next to him.

“FUCK! FUCKING ASSHOLE MOTHER FUCKER!” echoed through the living room.  Harry jumped up, knocking over his tea and then, a bit vertiginous from righting himself so quickly, stumbled over and then into the study door, knocking it open.  He managed to catch himself prior to falling to the floor.

Severus and Maurus both looked back at him, Severus holding the strap in his hand and Maurus sporting a livid welt over his upper back.  Despite his outburst, Maurus still had both hands on the wall. 

“Ah… everything okay then?”  Harry asked.

“Yes, Harry,” answered Severus, “Maurus here just neglected to tell me I needed to gag him prior to beating him.” 

Maurus added, “Nothing to worry about, Harry.  Some people process pain in stoic silence.  I process pain by screaming my head off and cursing.”

“I’ll… ahh… just step out then,” Harry said. _Merlin’s balls.  It’s like walking in on your parents._   “Perhaps a silencing charm?” 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry settled back on the sofa and after a tense few minutes during which he listened for anything he could hear from the study, he guessed Severus must have placed that silencing charm.  He picked up his _Daily Prophet_ and picked up where he left off.  He was reading an interesting article on the Chudley Cannons’ new seeker when the floo dinged and Hermione came gracefully through, a pile of books in hand.

“Hello, Harry!  I hope you don’t mind my stopping by,” Hermione said as she dusted herself off.

“No, Hermione, it’s good to see you,” Harry stood to greet her, “Can I take those books for you?”

“In a moment.  They’re actually for you, but I wanted to talk to you first.  You see,” Hermione hesitated, “I think when you came over today you may have seen something that you didn’t understand, and I want to make sure you don’t come to any premature judgement on the matter.”

“Does Ron know you’re here?”

“Well, yes, of course… he doesn’t know what I was going to talk to you about.  Well, he knows part of it.  I found some information on a way for you to request information related to the investigation that doesn’t involve your chain of command. Rather simple, really.  I would be happy to fill out the paperwork for you and file it this afternoon.  You should have everything on Monday morning when you get in at the latest, although I would hope they would rush it through given how pressing these attacks are.  The request will be copied to Robard’s desk, of course, but you won’t need to wait for his approval.”

“And the other part?”

“Well, no, he doesn’t know I’m here to discuss what you saw this morning.  He wasn’t sure you had seen anything, so he figured we should just let it drop.  But I know how it must have seemed, and I’m pretty sure you saw something.  You see, sometimes…” Hermione trailed off, at a loss for words.

“Sometimes when a man loves a woman… he spanks her?”  Harry deadpanned. 

Hermione blushed a deep shade of violet.  “So you _did_ see.  Thank Merlin I decided to come, then.  You see, sometimes people spank other people consensually.”

Harry smirked and looked down a bit.  Hermione continued, “I mean, I told Ron it would be okay to spank me.  Well, to tell the truth, I asked him to spank me.  You see…”

Harry started giggling and teared up in his own effort to stop from laughing hysterically.

“It’s normal to be a little upset when you first hear about something like this, Harry.  But I assure you there is no abuse.  Nor is it psychologically unhealthy, as people once thought.  Here, I brought you some books,”  She held out a pile of six or seven books, ranging from _SM 101_ , a muggle book, to _Erotic Bondage for Witches and Wizards_.  As Harry struggled to keep his composure, Hermione continued her lecture, “As you will learn from these books, Harry, what is important is that it’s Safe, Sane, and Consensual.  A little spanking like Ron and I share is unlikely to leave me harmed in any way; we’re both sane, in that we aren’t intoxicated or anything; and we both consented as adults to the goings on.  And we use something called a safeword.”

Harry ran his fingers through his hair in an effort to compose himself.  Hermione glanced over into the somewhat darkened hallway as she gave him a minute to process her no doubt shocking revelation. 

“Umm… Harry… what is that?” Hermione asked a little breathlessly, the pedantic tone of a few seconds earlier abruptly dropped.

Harry followed her gaze to the boxes which contained most of the things Maurus and he had cleared from the work room.  “That,” he coughed, “Is a flogger.”

“A flogger?  Why do you have a flogger?” Hermione stood up to get a closer look, and realized there was far more there than a flogger, “And that, Harry, what’s that?”

Harry came up behind her and looked over her shoulder into the open box, “The nipple clamps, you mean?  Or the butt plug?  We’re usually a lot more organized than this, you know, it’s just we had to convert our play room into a sick room, so we just put everything in boxes to sort later.”

Hermione looked back at him over her shoulder, eyes wide.  “Why did you let me prattle on for so long, Harry?”

“Well… it was amusing?”

Hermione scowled at him.  “Does Ron know?”

“He knows I have a discipline relationship with Severus and Draco, and that we spank, but no, I usually don’t share more details than someone is ready for.”

Hermione reached out for the flogger and ran a finger down one of the falls, sighing.  “Would you flog me, Harry?”  She asked softly.

Harry coughed.  “Well, in the interests of full disclosure, I’m usually not on that end of the whip, though I’ve topped a few times.  And I’d need to know Ron was okay with it.  And, frankly, if you want to be flogged well, it’d be Severus I’d recommend do it.”

“I’d rather it be you, and nothing too extended.  Just to try it out.  I’d be afraid of Severus doing it.”

“I’m far more likely to hurt you than Severus, but okay.  Again, you need Ron’s permission and, not for nothing, I need to ask Severus.  But my advice is you hold off on this for now and focus on building your relationship with Ron by exploring together what he _is_ willing to do.  If he isn’t totally comfortable even spanking you, he might really be freaked out by your asking if I can flog you.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed.  “How do you know he’s not totally comfortable spanking me?”

 _Fuck.  That’s what I get for talking to a lawyer!_   “Well… look, he asked me if it was okay… you know, guy talk?”  _Great.  Real strong._   Harry took a deep breath as he saw Hermione go from confused to livid.  “Hermione, now hold on a second.  Ron came to me a bit ago for advice, because he was freaked out by your request for spanking.  In his defense, it’s a normal reaction – he was taught never to hit girls, and that married couples don’t do corporeal punishment.  Pretty much everyone in our generation has the egalitarian marriage as their idea of the way things ‘should’ be, even if it doesn’t meet everyone’s needs.”

“Well, he should have asked me first!”

“You’re right, he should have, but you should have asked him before coming here today.  I am a bit upset that both of you have put me in the middle.  So, next time either of you come to discuss BDSM, _both_ of you come.”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Hermione now sounded genuinely contrite, “I didn’t think of that aspect of it.  And you have enough on your plate as it is.  How is Draco doing, by the way?  May I visit him?”

Harry and Hermione continued talking as they entered the sick room together.  After several long minutes they left, and Hermione went home to her husband.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

It had been almost noon when Maurus and Severus finally emerged from the study to join Harry.  The three men had spent the rest of the day caring for Joseph and Draco, cooking, eating and cleaning up.  Over the course of the day, Severus explained to Harry his new protocols – he would strip as soon as he returned from work each day (“But why doesn’t Maurus have to?  _He’s_  the slave around here since neither of you think I’m good enough to be one!”), he would present himself on his knees to Severus when he got home from work (“That’s just _awkward_.  I specifically said I would feel silly if you made me present!”), he would use the toilet sitting even at work (Harry blushed), and he would not be allowed to come without permission (“WHAT!”).  Maurus looked rather amused at Harry’s outsize reactions to Severus’ pronouncements. 

By the time they had finished with dinner, Harry had calmed down a bit and accepted that, yes, he had asked Severus to increase control and had promised to be obedient, even though he still didn’t like it one bit, thank you very much.  After dinner, Severus sent Maurus and Harry together to the sick room to care give Draco and Joseph their baths.

“I just don’t understand why I have to be naked,” Harry griped as he hovered Draco to the bathtub.  Severus had given permission for him to stay dressed for the evening to get used to the idea.  “I mean, _you_ don’t have to be naked!”

“Actually, Harry, my usual house uniform is naked.  When Joseph got sick, we had so many people in and out, some of whom would have been uncomfortable, so I started wearing clothes around the house.  And Severus has imposed a house uniform on me, too, while I’m here, since you’re to have one, although it’s different than yours.”

“What is it?”

“Barefoot and shirtless.”

“See, that’s what I mean.  If you’re a slave and I’m not, then why do you get to wear more clothes than me?”

“Harry, from what I’ve heard, although I’ve never been in a polyamorous relationship, it’s a bad idea to start comparing.  It’ll only make you upset.  The difference probably has something to do with the fact that you are sexually available to him, whereas I am not.  And besides, your young ass is far more pleasant to look at than my middle aged one any day of the week.”

“I still don’t see what good it will do.  And the whole presenting thing!  I’m going to be naked on my knees at random times.”

“You have said you forget yourself and then act out.  I can tell you from experience, it is much harder to mouth off when you are naked and on your knees in front of someone who is clothed and standing or sitting comfortably in a chair.  For that matter, it is a useful coping strategy to adopt a submissive posture when you are about to mouth off… it’ll help keep you from doing so.”

“Well then, what about the whole peeing sitting down thing?  Is _that_ at all useful?”

Maurus sighed deeply.  He could see the reasons for the protocols that Severus had put in place.  They weren’t even particularly Draconian as far as protocols go.  Harry was still allowed to use the furniture, was eating at the table rather than on the floor, was sleeping in Severus’ bed.  And Harry had _asked_ for more control and was trying to talk Severus into letting him be a slave.

Maurus and Harry washed Draco for a while, now coordinating their work silently as they had done it all before.  After several minutes, Harry finally broke the silence, “Well?”

Maurus took a deep breath.  “Harry, I’m not sure what to tell you.  You want to be a slave?”

Harry nodded. 

“Well then, I’ll tell you how I think about this sort of thing as a slave, and then you can do your thing.  As a slave, your purpose would be to give your Master as much pleasure as you can.  Obedience is the most important part of that.  If you give him your obedience, he can take anything else he needs or wants.  Instead of asking what good the rules Severus made for you will do _for you_ you might ask yourself why he might enjoy having you follow them.  Because, really, that is what you should focus on – him, not you.  So try that.  What pleasure might Severus gain from you peeing sitting down.”

Harry blushed, “Humiliating me.”

“Exactly.  You’re a masochist in a relationship with a sadist.  So, if he enjoys humiliating you, then you should get some pleasure out of that.”

“Because I’m a masochist?”

“No, honey.  A masochist might not like that particular humiliation.  Because he clearly likes it or he wouldn’t have asked you to do it.  Understand?”

Harry frowned.  “I guess, I don’t like it though.”

“Well, try the next one.  No cumming without permission.”

Harry scowled.  “Do you know how hard that will be?  I’m twenty-three years old!  I come once or twice a day!”

Maurus shook his head.  “You don’t even know yet how often he’ll let you cum.  The exercise we’re doing right now, Harry, is to see how it might bring him pleasure.”

“Fine,” Harry said snottily, “I’ll be more ready to go whenever he wants to play.”

“True.  You’ll also be more attentive to him even if you don’t want to play, as it turns out.  And, for most men who like to be Master, they like the control in and of itself also.  Given that it’s a role Severus gravitates toward, my guess is he gets off on that.”

They finished washing Draco and tucked him into bed, then Harry hovered Joseph to the bathtub for round two.  Harry noticed that Joseph was starting to lose muscle quickly – you could count his ribs.  After they fell back into the rhythm of their work, Maurus started talking again.  “Look, Harry, Severus is doing you a favor.  You think you want to be a slave but are having a hard time actually obeying.  He’s giving you dozens of chances, every day, to practice being obedient, to focus on his pleasure rather than your own, to shift the axis of your interest from yourself to him.  It’s like anything else, the more you practice, the more automatic obedience will become, the easier it will be to think of someone else before yourself and to worry about how much you are giving rather than how much you can take.  And nothing he is asking for is all that big a deal – slaves do things like quit their jobs or get new jobs because their Master wants them to.  How would you do if Severus accepted your service as a slave and then told you he wanted you to hand in your resignation as an Auror and do a potions apprenticeship in Berlin for the next three years so that you would be more valuable to him?  Also, slaves, most of us anyway, service our Master’s friends sexually.”

“I’ve heard about that.”

“Yeah, and some slaves get off on it, but I never did.  But nothing will make you feel like a slave more completely than sucking off your Master’s friends – Lee was a frequent flier for that with me,” Maurus grimaced.

“No love lost between you, I take it.”

“None at all.  He's uncut, which is nice, but I don’t think he bathes regularly so... cheese.”  Maurus gave a disgusted and long-suffering look, with a dash of camp at the end as he winked at Harry.

Harry chuckled a little bit.  Oh, the secret lives of slaves.  “So how did he wind up your guardian?  You didn’t have any say?”

“Well, in the end it was either him or Severus Snape, who has a reputation for being rather harsh and unforgiving, a heavy-on-discipline kind of a man.  Lee, as much as I dislike serving him sexually, is a decent sort of a man.  So, I picked Lee.  In retrospect, Severus doesn’t match his reputation at all.”

“Even after that beating he gave you?”

Maurus gave a half smile, “Honestly when I saw that strap I figured I was in for it.  You missed it, but I yelled at him earlier about Joseph and… well, remember I saw how badly bruised you were that night you came to help give Joseph a bath at our place.  I was expecting to be laid up for the evening, and all he did was welt me a bit.  Most of that is already gone.”

“It wasn’t a punishment then,” Harry commented definitively.  Maurus nodded agreement and they finished washing Joseph, chatting about this and that as two men who have grown comfortable with one another often do.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

[AUTHOR’S NOTE: this section contains CBT – cock and ball torture, not cognitive behavioral therapy.  If you are disturbed the thought of very intense sensations delivered to dangly bits, shut your eyes for the next part].

 

After their chores were done, Harry and Maurus sat together in the living room, Harry on edge of the sofa closest to the chair that Maurus had taken.  “Maurus, I rather rushed through my thanks earlier for playing with me yesterday evening.  I wanted to thank you properly,” Harry said earnestly.

Maurus chuckled and looked up from the book he had been skimming.  He raised an eyebrow.  “Really, Harry?  I could take that in so many different ways.”  He gave an arch smile before continuing, “How would you like to thank me?”

Harry sputtered.  _Well, that’s one way to cut to the chase!_   Once he recovered he bowed his head slightly to look through his lashes, “How would you like to be thanked, Sir?”  _Throwing in an honorific can’t hurt if we’re going to play this game._

Maurus closed the book with a snap and laid it on the side table.  “C’mere.  Let’s have a look at you.”  He spread his knees and, as Harry approached, pulled him to stand between them, allowing his hands to linger over his hips.  As he did so, Severus came in silently and sat on the far end of the sofa.  Maurus discretely looked to him for permission, and Severus gestured for him to go on.

“You’re pretty to look at, Harry.  Would you take off your shirt… to thank me?”

Harry smiled down at Maurus, “Yes, sir, but any more than looking and we’ll have to ask Severus.”

“It’s fine, Harry,” Severus broke in, causing Harry, who hadn’t realized he was there, to jump.

Maurus caressed Harry’s hips, drawing Harry’s attention back to him.  “Go ahead, then, slowly.”

Harry unbuttoned his shirt, slowly as requested, and dropped it to the ground.  “What about these?” Maurus reached up to ghost over Harry’s nipples with his thumbs.  “Can I play with them?”

Harry bit his lower lip, “Yes, sir, I’d like that.”  Maurus started gently, rubbing and tweaking, slowly getting rougher until Harry had rolled his head back and closed his eyes, breathing heavily, hard as a rock and thrusting a little at the air.

“I mentioned I like your ass.  Would you take of your jeans, Harry?  To thank me?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry moaned before ripping the button fly open and pushing his jeans down, then stepping out.

Maurus delicately stroked the underside of Harry’s cock with one finger.  “Can I play with this, Harry?”

“Mmmm Hmmm,” Harry replied, eyes closed again and face directed toward the ceiling.  Maurus flicked it with his index finger, not needing to say anything.  “Ah!  Yes, sir,”  Harry amended.

Maurus stroked Harry’s dick slowly and gently, then drew his finger down Harry’s crack, brushing over his hole.  “Can I play with this, too?”

“Yes, sir, anything,” Harry gasped.

Maurus raised an eyebrow.  “Anything?”  He glanced past Harry’s hip toward Severus and made a silent duck with one hand and raised an eyebrow – the universal silent gesture for ‘can I fist your boy?’.  Severus scowled and shook his head.

Maurus nodded, then turned his attention back to Harry.  “So I can finger this hole?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fuck this hole?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry moaned.

“Rim this hole?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fist this hole?”

Harry coughed and backed up half a step.  When he looked down, Maurus was looking up at him with exaggerated innocence and pursed lips.  “No, sir, I’d prefer you didn’t.”

Maurus took his hands off Harry and sighed.  “Honey, you can’t negotiate like this.  Sit down facing away from me on the floor, there.”  Maurus guided Harry so he was sitting on the floor between his legs, looking at Severus, his head resting on Maurus’ thighs.  Harry whined at the loss of contact.

“Now, lets try that again,” Maurus said briskly, losing the bedroom tone.  “I can finger you, rim you, and fuck you, but no fisting, right?  Not ‘anything’.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said sheepishly as Severus smirked at him.

Maurus ruffled his hair affectionately.  “Maybe some other time.  How about piercing?”

“I’ve never done that before… I’m not sure how I feel about needles.”

“It’s different than getting your blood drawn.  I go sideways through the skin so it goes in and comes out a different hole nearby.  Usually I stay in the skin, so there’s barely any blood.  If there is any, it can usually be dealt with with a bandaid.  It smarts a bit, but really isn’t a pain trip for the most part.  That’s why I think you’d have fun with it.”

“Why?”

“Once the needle is in, it doesn’t hurt any more, but it’s pretty freaky seeing yourself like that… I notice you get turned on when you’re afraid.  Piercing fucks with your head.  And it gets endorphins going pretty quick because it breaks the skin.”

Harry looked up at Severus, who looked back with an inscrutable expression.  “I guess I’d like to try it.”

“Good! I was planning on starting on your chest and working my way down.  Depending on how you tolerate it, I was going to butterfly your balls.”

Harry looked up at Maurus from between his legs, “Huh?”  Maurus drew him a picture, his balls stretched and flattened out by having the edge of the scrotum pinned down to piece of particle board.

“Again, it doesn’t really hurt once the needles are in.  It definitely fucks with your head.”

Harry felt his heart race and anticipation coiling in his stomach.  Maurus was right, he did like being freaked out.  He looked over at Severus, “Will you be there?”

“Of course.  Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Severus replied dryly.  Harry looked back up at Maurus and nodded his assent.

“Why don’t you go to the bedroom, Harry, and wait for me there.  I’ve got to go get somethings from home.”


	15. Violating Boundaries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the CBT and piercing scene promised in the last chapter -- and pretty much the only thing here is the CBT and piercing scene. If you are into it, great. Read this chapter. If not, skip it and rejoin us at the next chapter.

As Maurus flooed to Egyptian Sanctuary to get his things, Harry turned and padded to the bedroom with Severus following close behind.  They snuggled on the bed for a bit until, several minutes later, Maurus came back through with a black leather bag.  He smiled when he saw Harry and Severus together, once again thinking to himself that Severus couldn’t be more different than his reputation. 

“I brought what we need.  Do you want to see it?”

Harry pulled himself out of Severus’ arms to sit on the edge of the bed, leaving Severus free to cross his arms behind his head.  Maurus started laying supplies on the side table.  “These are acupuncture needles – single use and sterile so you don’t have to worry about an infection.  Some people use hypodermic needles, but those are more dangerous for me if I get a needle stick after it goes through you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have low enough magic that I’m susceptible to Muggle diseases like HIV.  A hypodermic needle is more dangerous than a solid needle because it carries more blood.  I do other things to stay healthy, too.  For example, I get tested regularly and take a Muggle medication everyday – it’s called Truvada – so if I do get exposed to HIV I’m less likely to get it.”

Severus looked interested, “So, do you use condoms?”

“Not for oral, and never for wizards, since we can run a diagnostic spell that would tell us instantly if you were infected, even if it wouldn’t show up at all for another few months on Muggle tests.  But I have sex with Muggles, too.  I use condoms for anal with them.  Anyway, I’d appreciate it if you would run a diagnostic on Harry real quick, Severus?”

Severus took out his wand and cast, a parchment appearing in front of him.  “No HIV or any other STIs.”  He set the parchment aside.

Maurus continued to lay out his supplies.  “This is a chlorhexidine wash, which I’ll scrub you down with before we start.  It makes things aseptic.  I’ll wear this pair of surgical gloves, also, and not touch anything other than the area that’s clean once we get started.  It’s probably overkill, but better safe than sorry.”

“Thanks,” Harry was growing more comfortable as Maurus explained all the things he did to make this safe.

Once Maurus had everything laid out, he looked at Harry, still smiling warmly.  “Ready?”

Harry couldn’t help but smile back.  He was anxious but was starting to get a little giddy as the fear took hold.  “Yes, sir!”

“Okay, honey.  Lie down between Severus’ legs.  Rest your head on his chest.  You two can snuggle while I pierce you.”

Maurus had set a light and playful mood, and Severus found himself smiling also, spreading his legs and patting the space between them.  Harry’s pale skin made a delightful contrast with the black wool of Severus’ slacks and shirt as he settled in.  Maurus got some warm water in a small bowl and started wiping Harry down with a sponge that had been pre-soaked in chlorhexidine.  _Not the sexiest smell_ , Harry thought to himself.  _But then, this whole scene feels a lot more playful and experimental than sexy._

Once everything was cleaned off, Maurus pulled on his gloves, first the right, then the left.  “You let me know how you’re feeling as we go, Harry.  This isn’t so much a dominance-submission head trip as it is a violating boundaries head trip.  And Severus will keep an eye on you, too.”

Maurus picked up the first needle, then pinched the skin over Harry’s left pec.  Harry bit his lip as  Maurus quickly placed the first needle. The tip went through and through the skin, not very deep but traveling about a centimeter prior to reappearing on the other side, the tip toward Harry’s nipple.  Harry yelped and grimaced, but held still. _Just take it like a man_ , he thought to himself.  Severus reached down and caressed Harry’s hips gently.  Maurus placed the second needle on the right pec, symmetric with the first.  Harry yelped again, grimacing.  Maurus settled into a rhythm, placing a need first on one side, then the mirror needle on the other.  At first, Harry yelped and grimaced, feeling weak for making so much noise when it was just small needles going through.  As Maurus had promised, once each one was placed, it didn’t really hurt at all.  Still, he was having a hard time processing the sensation as each needle was initially placed.  He started to sweat and was having a hard time keeping still.  After about ten needles were in, Maurus looked up from his work and commented gently, “Sometimes kissing helps.”

That was all the invitation Harry needed.  He leaned his head back to catch Severus lips and started to kiss Severus rather roughly.  At one point he nibbled Severus’ lip, which he had never done before then, and realizing what he had done pulled back.  “It’s okay, Harry.  I like it a little rough sometimes, too,” Severus reassured, then started the kiss again.  After a minute, Harry was moaning into the kiss and his dick had grown quite hard.  He started to reach for it, but Severus grabbed his hand away.  “No touching, Harry.  Remember it has to stay clean,” Severus reminded, breaking the kiss again.

Harry felt like he was floating, deliriously happy.  He used the break in the kiss to look down at the pattern that Maurus was making on his chest.  He had placed two rows of needles along the far sides of either pec, and was now making a circle around each nipple, still alternating from one side to the other to maintain symmetry.  In another scene Harry might have worried about having broken a rule by trying to touch himself, but the endorphins were humming along so well that at this point he felt he could do no wrong.  He started to giggle a bit instead.  “Ah, there we are,” Maurus commented, pausing a moment to look up at Harry.  “Feeling a bit better now?”

“Yes!” Harry responded exuberantly.  Maurus and Severus both chuckled a bit as the giddy energy infected them, too.  Harry continued to watch, transfixed by rhythmic work of the piercing.  Maurus had been right, it was definitely a ‘violating boundaries’ trip.  He knew he was in some altered state, but it was very different than when he was flogged, which was a lot heavier feeling.

Once Maurus had circled both pecs he started to pierce two parallel stripes on either side of Harry’s abdomen, working his way down.  As he reached the pelvis, he paused and looked up at Harry and Severus.  Harry stared down at him with blown pupils, moaning softly and biting his lower lip, shaking his head from side to side slowly and rhythmically.  His arms and legs were flung, limp, to the outside of Severus’ legs, and his cock was granite hard.  He looked infinitely fuckable.  “Had enough, Harry, or shall I continue?”

“Don’t stop!” Harry moaned, then went back to biting his lip.  Maurus glanced over to Severus for confirmation, and Severus nodded his ‘go ahead’. 

Maurus took out a piece of foam board and wiped it down with some alcohol.  There was a hole in the middle.  “Single use, Harry, nothing to worry about,” Maurus commented gently as he maneuvered Harry’s cock and balls through the opening.  He changed his gloves and wiped Harry’s cock and balls again with an alcohol swab before picking up another needle.  This one was shorter and thicker than the ones he had used up top.  “This’ll feel a bit different than the ones up top,” he said as he grabbed a small bit of scrotal skin on the left and pulled it to stretch the ball sack smooth.  As he put the needle straight through the little pinch of scrotal skin, Harry couldn’t help but agree.  It didn’t feel sharp, per se.  It could just as easily have been heat or cold he was feeling, or a pinch.  But it was quite intense regardless.  He was too far gone to know he was groaning loudly as it was done.  When Maurus looked up to check in on him after the first needle, his eyes were closed and his head was pressed firmly back into Severus’ chest.  A think sheen of sweat had appeared on his forehead. 

Maurus picked up a second needle and moved to the other side of the scrotum, pinning the right down after stretching the ballsack.  After that, he placed ten more needles.  Harry was moaning and groaning deeply as he finished.  Miraculously, he was still hard.

“All done, Harry,” Maurus said gently, “Take a look?”

Harry opened his eyes and lifted his head to look down at his now stretched-out-flat balls.  “Fuck!” he exclaimed as he let his head fall back onto Severus chest, eyes closed.  He took a few deep breaths then looked down again.  He wasn’t sure what he thought.  It made him a little nauseous seeing his balls like that, pinned down flat to a piece of foamboard.  He started to cry without really knowing why, resting his head back on Severus’ chest again. 

Severus ran his hand through Harry’s hair, “Good boy,” he said softly, “Such a good boy.”  Maurus rubbed his hand over Harry’s left thigh.  They waited for the tears to pass, accepting them the same way they had accepted the giddy laughter earlier, not trying to control or to alter, just accepting that whatever it was was right right now.

After a few minutes, Harry popped his head up again for another look, no longer crying.  He seemed more alert this time.  He started to laugh again, a laugh that started deep in his belly.  Maurus looked up at him with a half smirk.  “Alright, Harry?”

Harry nodded, then looked up at Severus, who was also smiling at him.  “Good boy,” Severus said in the same gentle tone as before.  “You wanna come for me tonight, boy?”

Harry felt oddly nonsexual given how hard he was, but given that he didn’t know when Severus would let him come again he figured, _Hey, why not?_  “Yes, sir.  Please, sir.”

“If you can come like this, you can come,” Severus challenged.  Harry laughed.  _Never doubt the ability of a man in his twenties to come, even in the most awkward circumstances._ Maurus held out some sterile lube, clearly Muggle and labeled “Surgilube”, squirting it into Harry’s hand when he reached out.  Harry started to jerk himself off and was shocked when he came after just a few rough pulls.  He hadn’t realized he was so close.  He started giggling again and shoved a cum covered finger into Severus’ mouth, still laughing hysterically.  Severus bit down hard. 

“Sorry, Severus,” Harry quickly apologized and pulled to try to get his finger back.  Severus held the finger between his teeth a moment longer to establish that he was giving it back on his terms, then let it go.

“You don’t give me your cum, Harry, I give you mine,” Severus stated evenly.

“Yes, sir,” Harry said with a contrite look, which he held for a minute before starting to laugh hysterically again.

“Time for these to come out, I think,” Maurus commented regretfully.  Harry looked beautiful with dozens of sparkling needles up and down his torso, and the butterflied scrotum was as twisted-looking as it always is.  Stifling a sigh, Maurus started to pull the needles out, first the scotum, alternating left and right, then working his way back up the abdomen, pinching the skin again before removing each needle.  Harry slowly calmed as Maurus did so.  Maurus put the needles into a red plastic container, then wiped over the marks he had left with an alcohol swab.  Harry winced and hissed against the burn.  By the time Maurus had pulled out the needles around his nipples and on either side of his pecs, again applying alcohol, Harry felt like himself again.  He had no interest in moving off Severus, so he didn’t.  At some point, he dozed off and Severus carefully moved out from under his boy to go back to his laboratory to work on the antidote.  Maurus laid down next to Harry to make sure he had company if he woke up, falling asleep himself as he watched Harry’s chest rise and fall with each breath.


	16. Reinforcements

Harry woke as Severus tried to insinuate himself into the space between him and Maurus.  It felt like the early hours of the morning, but he was unsure of the time.  “Everything okay, Sir?”

“Yes, Harry.  How are you feeling?”

“I’m well, Severus.  That was a hell of a scene.”

Severus smiled into the darkness, pulling Harry to him.  “Looks like you need to thank Maurus again.”

Harry grinned, “Oh, I’ll make sure I thank Maurus as often and effusively as possible!”

Severus thought to himself that a ratio of two forty-year-olds to one twenty-year old was probably perfect for matching libidos.  His musings were interrupted when Harry asked, “So, where were you?  It feels like 3 a.m.”

“In the lab.  It’s closer to 6, actually.  I’ve isolated 43 magical traces which could represent the curse/potion based on the blood samples I have, but I can’t start working on an antidote until I narrow it down to one.  Or maybe I could come up with an antidote to two or three and try them out, but as the number increases the difficulty in combining them and the side effects increase exponentially.  I need more cases to exclude the incidental traces.  And, of course, my work depends on your idea being correct.  But I felt the need to move things along as far as I could in the absence of data.”

“Hermione is working on requesting the clinical data we need.  She said Monday morning at the latest she would have records of people who were hit by the curse but did not have the potion, but she hoped it would be sooner.”

Severus was silent for a long while.  “I’m not sure how long Joseph is going to last.  His magic is gone.  He is wasting quickly.”

Harry and Severus held each other for a long while, both listening to Maurus breathing as he lay asleep and unaware beside them.

“What’s going to happen to Maurus if Joseph dies?” Harry finally asked.

“It will depend on what he wants.  From what he tells me he doesn’t have any family willing to take him back.  As a near-squib, the most likely thing is that he tries to adjust to life as a Muggle.  Alternatively, he could partner with a wizard again, in which case he could stay in the magical world.  That’s the main reason he has a guardian, to give him time to find another partner if that is what he wants, or to allow him to slowly adjust to living completely in the Muggle world if that’s what he decides.”

“So, slavery or muggle?”

Severus shook his head, “He doesn’t have to be a slave.  He could have an egalitarian relationship or a dom/sub relationship with him as the dom.  Frankly, I’m surprised he’s a slave.  I didn’t recognize Maurus when I first met him last week, but as Lee told me about him I realized who he was.  He was a very dominant top in his early 20s.  We never played together, but I knew who he was.  He was very well regarded.   I would have loved to have bottomed for him.  Then he met Joseph and fell head over heels, enthralled.  He must have had a latent slave inside him to be able to throw himself at Joseph’s feet like that, but no one who knew him then expected it.  He could certainly flip to being a Master or Daddy.”

The conversation fell silent and after a few minutes Harry heard Severus’ breathing slow and deepen.  He closed his eyes for a moment but couldn’t sleep so he got out of bed and started to dress, then remembered Severus’ edict the night before and folded his clothes back into the drawer.  It was a bit chilly, so he cast a warming charm over himself before braving the kitchen to make tea.  As he waited for the tea to seep, the floo alarm went off.  He ran to answer it, wondering who it could be so early, and hoping he got there before anyone woke up.

“Harry… Oh, Harry!  Oh.  Sorry,” Hermione put a hand over her eyes at the same moment Harry remembered he was completely in the buff.  “Sorry to interrupt so early in the morning.  I have the files we requested.  They put the request through as a priority.  Can I bring them through?  In a bit?  Once you have a chance to finish dressing?”

_Fuck me dead and upside down!  Fuck and hell.  FUCK._   “Sure,” Harry stammered, “I’ll just call once I’ve put myself together.”

Once Hermione’s head was no longer in the fire, Harry stalked back into the bedroom and roughly shook Severus awake, “Well, _that_ was a shitty idea,” he said venomously.

Severus looked up at Harry, raising his head, “What was?”

“Having me naked all the time,” Harry huffed, “There I was making tea in the buff when Hermione rung the floo, and she just saw me naked.”

Severus’ eyes narrowed.  “You don’t answer the floo naked, boy.  You put a robe on and then answer it.”

Harry scowled, “Well, I didn’t think to, did I?  I was trying to keep the fucking alarm from waking you and Maurus.”

Severus flopped back on the pillow and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking deep breaths.  Maurus, now awake, scowled at Harry and shook his head.  Harry ground his teeth and scowled right back at Maurus.  As Severus lay with his eyes closed composing himself, Maurus discretely bowed his head and crossed his wrists behind his back, still laying next to Severus, then looked back up at Harry and sharply pointing a finger at him.  Harry shook his head vigorously.  _Yeah, I get it, time to submit but I just made a fool of myself in front of my friend and this naked thing is fucking ridiculous,_ he shouted at Maurus in his head, knowing he couldn’t hear.

Maurus raised both eyebrows, pointed at Harry again, then at the ground.  Harry rolled his eyes.  Finally giving up, Maurus shook his head in disgust and pretended to be asleep.  Another moment later, Severus opened his eyes and looked up at Harry with a murderous expression. 

‘ _You have said you forget yourself and then act out,’_ Harry heard Maurus’ words from the night before echo in his head, _‘I can tell you from experience, it is much harder to mouth off when you are naked and on your knees in front of someone who is clothed._ ’ As suddenly as it had appeared, Harry’s anger tapered.  A cold draft and the cold floor under his feet reminded him of his nakedness.  Remembering again that he was the one who asked for increased control, he dropped his eyes, then fell to his knees and clasped his hands behind his back.

It was an agonizing moment, waiting for Severus to respond.  Most of Harry wanted to obey, but part of him, and it was a noisy part of him, wanted to have a temper tantrum.  He held the tension silently as he knelt.  He hated being embarrassed in front of his friends.  After a while, he started to wonder if Severus had just left him there while he continued his nap.  _Do I risk looking up to see if he is awake?  Or do I stay here until he acknowledges me?_

Severus’ feet came into Harry’s line of sight as Severus swiveled himself to sit.  “Good boy,” Severus said, his voice now even.  Harry chanced a look up at his face.  The anger was gone, leaving only exhaustion.  Not for the first time Harry noticed the fine wrinkles around his eyes and lips.  Harry looked back down, now a bit ashamed he had woken Severus in a fit of pique. 

“Sorry, sir.  I forgot myself… again,” Harry said in a small voice.

“You remembered yourself in the end, Harry.  It’ll get easier with practice.  Go ahead and get dressed to return Hermione’s call.  I’ll order breakfast.”

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Two hours later, naked once again, Harry looked with wide eyes at the hundreds of boxes deposited in Severus’ study.  Hermione told him that she had requested all admission and discharge diagnostic scans from St. Mungo’s for the last year.  Her hope was that some of the people who had been admitted with unrelated diagnoses would incidentally have either the potion or the curse on their diagnostics, allowing Harry to generate a list of names.  He was also sure to be able to generate a list of people hit by both and neither based on the records.  At least some of the people on the records would still have a blood sample in stasis in the lab at St. Mungos.

She had told him all he need do is go through the boxes and sort the names into people who had neither the curse nor the potion, people who had the curse but not the potion, people who had the potion but not the curse, and then people who had both.  If Harry was right, the people who had both would be admitted for the curse, but the other groups would be admitted for other problems – snake bite, misspelled charm, wizard flu, dragon pox, and so on.  Harry had smiled and nodded but was now left with thousands of files to go through.  _At least it’s Sunday morning.  I guess I have all day_. 

Harry sighed and opened the first box.  A draft crossed his naked skin, momentarily chilling him and reminding him that he was, indeed, naked.  He wished he had his clothes on for the umpteenth time that morning, then started sorting through the reports.  _It makes Severus happy.  You want to be a slave?  Focus on making Severus happy.  Obedience makes him happy, and that’s all this is.  And he likes looking at my ass,_ Harry smirked _, that gives him pleasure, too._

Three hours later, Maurus came up behind him.  “Still at it, honey?”  Severus had filled him in on what Harry was up to before going to the lab.

Harry looked up, his neck cracking and popping as he did so.  “Yeah.  I figure if I can find twenty or so examples in each group I can stop and check to see who we have blood for.”

“Any luck?”

“Some,” Harry shrugged, “There’s a ton of people who have neither the potion nor the curse, and a ton who have the potion only.  I already have a bunch that have the curse and the potion from the attacks.  It’s the curse alone that’s hard to find.  I don’t have any of those yet.”

Maurus put a sandwich and some tea at Harry’s left hand.  “Can I help, Harry?  Severus told me it’s a race against time for Joseph.”

Harry sighed as he looked over the boxes, knowing that having Maurus’ help could shift Joseph’s fate.  The problem was, Maurus didn’t have any security clearances and these files were confidential.  “Let me talk to Hermione.  I’m not sure there’s any way I can let you go through them legally.”  _They’ve got me totally domesticated_ , Harry thought to himself.  _Two weeks ago, I would have taken his help, rules be damned.  Now I’m going to go begging mommy for permission._

“Shall I call her for you while you continue your work?”

“Please.  Thank you.”

A few minutes later Maurus came back, “She’ll be here in half an hour or so.  You might want to ask permission to get dressed.”

Harry thanked him and walked to the door of Severus’ lab.  He knocked and waited, another draft reminding him that he was naked.  Naked in a hallway waiting for Severus to come give him permission to get dressed.  He started to get hard thinking about it.  _Traitor cock!  You think this is some sort of porn novel, but it’s drafty and sorting through files is completely unsexual._   His cock took no notice of his objections and continued to harden.

Severus answered the door, angry at being interrupted.  Harry looked up into the black, flashing eyes and stern face, then, unable to resist ( _God he is hot)_ dropped to his knees and clasped his hands behind his back.  _Great.  I_ am _in a fucking one-handed novel._   He felt the flush start in his chest and work its way into his face.

“Well, we seem to have cured your problems with submission, boy.  You know you only need to present when you get home from work?” Severus sounded amused.

“Ah… sorry, sir.  I mean, it just seemed appropriate, sir,” he stuttered before remembering why he was there. “I was wondering if I could get dressed?  Hermione is coming back to see if Maurus can work on the files with me.”

“Put out your right hand,” Severus ordered.  Harry complied, a confused look on his face.  Severus grabbed his wrist and spit into his hand.  “Good boy, now jerk off for me.”  He leaned casually against the door frame, arms crossed, smirking down at Harry.

Harry blushed an even deeper shade of red and started to rub himself, slow and firm, then faster.  By the time Severus’ spit was dry, he had some precome to work with.  Finally his breathing came faster, every exhale a little moan, and his cock gave that last little hardening before coming.  'Ding!' an alarm sounded behind Severus.  “Stop, Harry.  Times up.  I have to get back to brewing.”

Harry looked up at Severus, bewildered, but stopped stroking.  “You’re joking,” he groaned.

“Thank you for a very entertaining interlude, Harry.  Go ahead and get dressed.  We both have work to do.”  And he turned away to stride back into the lab, leaving Harry to clench his fists and his teeth as he came back from the edge.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Having pulled on his jeans and a t-shirt, Harry waited near the floo.  He was surprised when not only Hermione, but Ron, Seamus, and Parvati poured out a few minutes later.  “Hello, Harry,” Hermione said, looking him up and down as though to make sure he was clothed this time, “I brought reinforcements.”  She turned to Maurus, who was leaning against the doorframe to the study, still shirtless and unshod.  “I’m sorry, Maurus, but you don’t have the necessary clearances to see the files.”

Maurus pressed his lips together and looked away.  A split second later, Harry watched what he had come to think of as Maurus’s slave mask snap into place.  Maurus smiled warmly. “Well, I’ll make some snacks for everyone.  Does anyone have any dietary preferences?” After noting Parvati’s desire for a vegetarian option and Seamus’s objection to anything vegetarian, he went to the kitchen and started to put together a tray while the others proceeded to the study to attack the files, Harry in the lead.

By late afternoon all of the boxes had been searched and all the food eaten.  There were only three persons who had been hit by the curse but not had the potion, and they were indeed all admitted for other complaints.  Harry wished he had more people in that group, but it was the best they could do.  Once he had written down the identifying information of the patients in each group on a piece of parchment, Hermione drafted a request for blood samples to be submitted to the Emergency Wizard for the Wizengamot.  She promised she would hand deliver it within the hour.

Once everyone had left, the starch went out of Maurus.  He looked more dejected than Harry had ever seen him.

“You okay, Maurus?” Harry asked.

“Yes, honey.  Go be a good boy and get undressed again for Severus.  I just need a minute.”  The mask slipped on again, and the familiar warm smile was back on Maurus’ lips.  It didn’t extend to his eyes.

Not wanting to start anything, Harry left to go back to the bedroom.  When he came back to the study to find Maurus, he was gone.  _Must want to be alone_ , Harry thought to himself, sighing, then went to look for Severus to let him know what they had found.


	17. A Time to Live and...

Once the reinforcements had left, Harry once again stripped off and went to find Severus in the lab.  On a piece of parchment, he had neatly written the names of the cases they had discovered, and whether or not they were affected by the curse.  As he had suspected, only those hit by both the curse and the potion were in affected.  He really didn’t have enough in the curse-only group, though.  _I wonder if Jackson would donate some blood?_ Harry thought sarcastically, shaking his head to clear the absurd thought as he readied himself to knock on the lab door.

Several minutes later Severus looked up from Harry’s notes.  “We need more with just the curse, Harry.  Ideally, I need blood samples from several people, the more the better, for each group.  Even if all three of these curse-only cases have blood samples on hold, I’m not sure it will be enough.”

“Right now you have only the baby, right?”

“Correct.  Now, the good thing about a baby is they have less overall curse and potion exposure, so the specimen is less muddled, but I need more.”

Harry shook his head, “I wish I could just ask Jackson.  I’m sure he was hit.”

“Perhaps you should ask him.”

Harry looked up, frowning, “Severus, the man hates my guts.  I suspect he may be a neo-Death Eater himself.”

The old spy smirked at him.  “It doesn’t matter if he’s a neo-Death Eater or not.  You have significant evidence that it is a combination of a potion and a curse that causes the symptoms, as well as evidence that the potion is widespread in a relatively random sample of the magical population of Great Britain.  If you give him this data and he blows it off, you now have more information when you approach Robards – you not only have evidence that Jackson is indeed a mole, but you still have your current evidence with regard to how the curse works.  If, on the other hand, you give Jackson the data and he gives you a blood sample, you have the blood sample.”

“And we’ll know Jackson is on our side,” Harry smiled excitedly.

“Not quite.  You’ll know he is either on our side or a good double agent.  Either way, though, you’ll still win.  First, you’ll have the blood sample.  Second, the investigation will progress faster because Jackson will have to put his men on tracking down how the potion is getting into people, whether there is a selection bias as to who is getting it, and so on.  Since your report will go up the chain of command, and I’m sure Hermione could make sure it gets to the right hands in the Wizengamot, a lot of people will suddenly be looking very closely at your rival to make sure he behaves like a good little Auror should.”

“I see,” Harry frowned.  “Somehow it was always cleaner when we were fighting Voldemort.”

“It wasn’t, really.  You were just younger and so saw things that way.  Coming to premature closure on an issue is a characteristic error of the adolescent mind.”

“You keep calling me an adolescent!” Harry groused.

Severus ignored Harry’s comment and continued,  “Another aspect of this I want to point out to you: by going to Jackson first with your findings, and by having gone through a chain of command in every action in this case, you are starting to rewrite that reputation of yours.”

Harry sighed.  “So, next stop, Jackson.  He’s going to tear my hide off when I disturb him on a Sunday.”

“It doesn’t matter.  Just make sure you give a copy of your report to Hermione before you go – and make sure that Jackson is aware that you have given others a copy of your report before you get very far into the conversation.”

“Yes, sir.”  Harry gave him a mock salute, looking quite absurd buck naked with his half hard cock jutting out in front of him.

“Whelp,” Severus laughed, smacking Harry’s ass playfully, “Mocking your elders will only lead to grief!”

 

++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry spent the next couple of hours formally compiling his data and writing a one page summary to tack on to the front.  He read it over several times before deciding he was happy with it, then copied it out once again on good parchment in his best handwriting.  There was enough data to be convincing, at the very least enough to get the investigation moving in the right direction.  He sent a copy along to Hermione and another copy to Robard’s desk, where he would find it on Monday morning.  Finally, he took a deep breath and forced himself to ring Jackson’s floo, another copy of his report in hand.

Within seconds, Jackson’s angry mug was scowling out of the flames.  “What do _you_ want, Potter?”

“I’ve some conclusions from my investigation that I wanted to share with you before Monday morning.  I didn’t want you to be blindsided.”

Jackson’s scowl deepened.  “Well, go on then, what is it?  Or are you waiting for me to call a press conference?”

“I’d like to speak in person, if you don’t mind.  It will only take 15 minutes of your time.  I could come there, or you are welcome to come through here.”

Jackson sighed, then acquiesced.  “Fine, Potter.  This had better be good.  I’ll come through in a minute, just let me tell my wife where I’m off to on a Sunday evening at dinner time.”

Harry waited impatiently by the fire until, a few minutes later, Jackson stepped out.  He had changed into his Auror robes and Harry suddenly felt underdressed in his jeans and t-shirt.  “Well?” Jackson interrogated, “Where’s your report then?”

Harry handed it off, suddenly a little timid.  What if he was wrong?  Then he remembered Severus’ advice.  “Hermione Granger-Weasley, from Legal, helped request the data through the Wizengamot.  I’ve given her a courtesy copy of the report, of course, as that is to be filed with the approved request once….”

“Yeah, Potter, I get it.  Always trying to go around the man in charge, aren’t you?”  Jackson sneered.

Harry felt his face flush.  He had done everything by the book, and the needling was setting him off.  “No, Jackson.  I was assigned to review the reports generated by the investigation.  An ordinary part of that role is requesting any additional data necessary to draw appropriate conclusions, which I did through the normal channels.”

Hearing raised voices, Maurus came unobtrusively from the sick room, and stood watching from the doorway for a moment before interrupting.  “Harry, I didn’t know you had a guest.  Shall I make tea?” He asked, the warm tone undermined by his cold affect.

Jackson turned to Maurus, smiling as though to bare his teeth.  “What’s this, Harry, one of your Death Eater lovers I’ve heard so much about?”  Jackson crossed the room, glaring at Maurus, then reached down to grab his left arm.  “No tattoo,” He commented, turning back to Harry. “Your standards are falling.  Couldn’t find another Death Eater, so just picked up some poufter off the street.  And what’s that smell?” Jackson sniffed at the air dramatically, “Smells like shit.  Dick covered in it, then?” He questioned Maurus, “or are you one of them that take it up the ass?”

“That’s quite enough,” Severus’ silky voice sounded firmly from the other side of the room, where he had come in from the lab.

Jackson turned to face Severus.  “If it isn’t the great traitor himself.  Do you think either side would have had anything to do with you if they knew what sort of man you are?  Or did He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named encourage perversion among his ranks?  Hard to believe we were all so afraid of a bunch of Nancy boys.”

“Maurus, get tea,” Severus ordered in a tone that did not brook argument.  “Harry, give your report and get this man out of my living room.”

“Not so fast, Snape,” Jackson countermanded, “I haven’t seen the second Death Eater lover yet.  Wouldn’t be right for me to miss meeting the other members of the household.  And since I’ve been invited in, I’m allowed to show myself around a bit.  Auror, remember?  I’d say four faggots, half of whom are Death Eaters, and another an Auror who fucks up every investigation he gets involved in, is cause enough to allow me a look around.”

“You have no right, but I have no problem showing Draco to you.  He’s in the sick room.  Then perhaps you would like to review Harry’s report,” Severus compromised, showing Jackson and Harry to the sick room, where he opened the door to let them in ahead of him.  “Maurus,” he called, turning back toward the living room, “Make tea.”  While he had Maurus eye, he cast a charm which wrote midair in smoke, “Get Hermione Now.  Fuck The Tea.”  Before the smoke dissipated, Severus stepped into the sick room, shutting the door behind him, and Maurus flooed over to Hermione’s place.

Once in the sick room, Jackson turned a delicate shade of green.  The fecal smell in the hallway was merely a waft of the stench in the sick room.  Draco had soiled himself.  Harry wondered a moment why Maurus hadn’t changed him while he was in here before turning back to Jackson.  “Well, here’s Draco,” Harry said with a sweeping gesture, “he seems to have soiled the bedding.  Don’t mind me one bit.”  With that, he pulled down the sheets and pointedly changed Draco’s diaper in front of Jackson, who appeared to be fighting the urge to vomit as the stench became stronger.  Severus smiled with grim amusement from his place at the door.

Once Harry was done, he turned back to Jackson and waved him closer, “Here we are, then.  One Death Eater lover for your inspection, sir!”  Jackson stayed where he was.

“Who is the other one, then?” Jackson asked, gesturing to Joseph.

“Another person struck by the curse,” Severus answered silkily, having moved soundlessly so that he stood immediately behind Jackson.  Jackson turned, now a pale grey color, to face the once-upon-a-time assassin who looked down on him with a glare that seemed to promise death.  He stumbled backward, knocking clumsily into Joseph’s bed before recovering himself.

“Very funny,” Jackson commented sarcastically.

“No, Auror Jackson, I’m not amused at all, I’m afraid.  Would you care to step back into the living room?”  Severus did not so much as crack a smile.

Jackson followed them back to the living room without complaint and at Harry’s invitation sat on the sofa, where he began to read through the report.  He was about halfway through when Hermione and Ron stepped out of the floo together, followed soon after by Maurus.

“Tea, eh?” Jackson accused, sending a hostile look toward Maurus.

“Faggots, eh?” Ron countered, sending a look just as hostile toward Jackson.

“Now, gentlemen,” Hermione interrupted.  “No need to bicker.  I’m sure Auror Jackson had an excellent reason to search the house,” Hermione looked at Jackson with her best schoolgirl smile, “as he _did_ identify himself as an Auror and, as shown by his own words as Maurus reported to me, claimed to be acting in his official capacity.”

Jackson scowled at the four of them. “If you would settle down, ladies, I need to get through this report.  After all, it is dinner hour on a Sunday.”  All four returned the hard look but left him to the report. Finally, he looked up and said grudgingly, “All seems to be in order, Potter.  We’ll get to work on tracking down how the potion is being distributed.”

“We also need blood samples of persons hit by the curse but unaffected.  Severus is working on an antidote,” Harry added.

“Why would _he_ work on an antidote?  It’s his kind that are doing the killing,” Jackson replied.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry all looked incredulous for a moment until Ron finally spoke up.  “You do realize that Severus is a war hero, right?  Helped bring down the Death Eaters at great personal cost and risk?”

“I don’t believe any of that bullshit.  He’s a fucking Death Eater.  Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater.  You don’t get to be a Death Eater saying your rosary before bed every night.  You become a Death Eater by raping, torturing, and killing.”

“We’re getting sidetracked again, here,” Hermione interrupted.  “Severus has been cleared formally by the Wizengamot.  You cannot continue to harass him for actions he has already been tried for and cleared.  You certainly cannot come into a private home, identify yourself as an Auror, and search it in that capacity based on a certain percentage of the household being, as I believe you put it, ‘faggots’.”

“So sue me,” Jackson sneered.

“They might.  It would certainly be well within their rights,” Hermione stated in a dry tone. “For now, however, I need to know if you plan on obtaining blood samples to develop an antidote.  If not, I will speak to the appointed Wizard on Call for the Wizengamot to have a formal inquiry made as to why.”

“Oh, we’ll investigate, all right. I have as much if not more vested in getting this crisis solved than any of these bastards,” Jackson replied.

Harry hesitated a moment, wondering if Jackson was going to elaborate, but then broke in.  “Jackson, I noticed that you were hit by the curse but didn’t fall when we were in Diagon Alley together.  I don’t have your medical report from after the altercation in my files.  Would you be willing to have a scan and, if you were hit with the curse but had not had the potion, would you be willing to give a blood sample?  Severus is trying to narrow down the magical trace of the curse/potion to develop an antidote.  We have large numbers of people in the other groups, many of whom we expect to have blood in stasis at St. Mungo’s, but the curse-no-potion group is very small.  So far we only have one blood sample.”

Jackson pursed his lips.  “Why do you think you didn’t get a copy of my medical report?”

“I don’t know.  I assumed Robards wanted to protect your privacy or something.  If you are willing to share it, you can have the rest of the report redacted so that anything private stays private.”

“I never asked to have my report kept private,” Jackson answered quietly, “I… I really do want this solved.  My brother was hit in the attack on Diagon a couple of weeks ago.  As much as I despise you, Potter, for your unnatural habits and your choice in lovers, I begrudge you neither my blood nor my diagnostic report if it will help develop an antidote for Michael.  But that leaves the question – why was my report kept from you in the first place?”

“That should certainly be looked into,” Hermione said, “However it may be something as innocuous as someone trying to protect you for no definite reason.  I’ll look into it on Monday.  Will you let Severus run your diagnostic, or shall I get a healer.”

“A healer.  I still don’t trust Death Eaters, no matter how ‘reformed’ they may appear.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++

It was two in the morning by the time Hermione delivered the last of the blood samples to Severus.  He had 20 samples in each group, other than the curse-no-potion group, where he had Jackson, the baby, and a couple of others.  As he strode to the lab, he hoped it would be enough.  He started working, planning on continuing until he had isolated a curse/potion trace.

It was about six in the morning when he heard a scream echo through their chambers.  “Help!  Oh, God, Help!”  Severus cast a quick stasis charm before running toward the source of the screaming, finding Harry already en route to the sick room where the screaming was coming from.  When the burst in, Harry and Severus saw Maurus straddling Joseph where he lay in his bed, pressing down rhythmically on his chest and stopping every so often to get off and breath into his mouth.  Noticing their presence finally, Maurus looked back and yelled, “Will you two help me?  Help me!  He’s not breathing!”

Severus walked over and put a gentle hand on Maurus’ shoulder.  “Maurus, please stop this.  He’s dead.”

“You have to save him,” Maurus cried as he continued to press as hard as he could down on Joseph’s chest.  “Get a healer.  Something.  I can’t lose him this way.”

“Harry,” Severus said calmly, “Please get Madame Pomphrey.  Let her know that Muggle C-P-T has been started.”

“C-P-R, Severus, C-P-R,” Maurus corrected, continuing his hysterical intervention.

“Okay, Maurus, what do you need me to do?”  Harry ran off to get Madame Pomphrey as Maurus gave Severus instruction on how to give chest compressions.

Madame Pomphrey gazed wide-eyed at the scene when she arrived back with Harry a few moments later to find Severus giving breaths while Maurus once again did chest compressions.  Both were now sweaty and breathing hard from the exertion.  Joseph was a blue-grey color.  Madame Pomphrey recovered herself and resumed her usual unflappable expression before wading into the fray.  “Gentlemen?  Would one of you care to tell me what has happened?”

“I left the room for a moment, Madame, and then heard the monitoring spell alarm,” Maurus gasped between breaths, “I came back and he wasn’t breathing so I started CPR.  I had read about it in my nursing book.”

It took Madame Pomphrey only a moment to get the measure of the man, and the likely relationship with Joseph.  “Good.  I need to cast a medical scan, if you could stop compressions for a moment.”  Maurus stopped and Severus stepped back.  Once they were both back, she cast a diagnostic scan, then a second spell to deliver a shock to Joseph’s heart.  “Go on, resume compressions.”

Severus raised an eyebrow once Maurus was compressing the chest again, and Madame Pomphrey nodded.  Truly, there was no hope, but if Maurus needed this sort of closure, they would take the time to give it to him.  It didn’t hurt Joseph at all.  He was already dead.  Madame Pomphrey knew enough CPR to know her role, and at this point she was here for Maurus more than Joseph.  They continued CPR for another ten minutes, with Harry relieving Maurus at one point and Severus taking another turn also.  Finally, Madame Pomphrey could tell that Maurus was exhausted.  “Does anyone have any other ideas at this point?” She asked the room.  All three men shook their heads, and Maurus bowed his head and sobbed.  “Does anyone here object to stopping?  I believe we have reached the point of futility.”  Severus and Harry both looked at Maurus, who after a long pause shook his head.  “Please stop chest compressions.  Time of death 6:13 a.m.”  Madame Pomphrey reached over and ritualistically closed Joseph’s eyes.


	18. Harry and The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Joseph’s body had not yet cooled when Severus curtly ordered Harry to get ready for work.  “Work?” He responded in disbelief. 

“Work, Harry.  Every day you will go to work.  It needn’t be a discussion every time,” Severus replied tightly.  Harry was about to object when Maurus looked up from Joseph’s body at Harry then, having caught his eye, bowed his head and crossed his hands behind his back.  The message was clear – obey.

 _I guess Maurus doesn’t need me starting a fight this morning_.  “Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir,” he said formally before leaving the room with as much good grace as he could muster.  He did not feel up to work today.

Harry lingered in the shower, letting the warm spray run over him while he replayed the events of the morning over and again, starting with Maurus’ anguished scream and ending with Madame Pomphrey declaring the time of death.  _Is that what it will be like with Draco?_   Helpless to hold off any longer, he let his tears run down his face until Severus banged on the door, yelling, “You are going to be late for work.  I have neither the time nor the energy this morning to be your keeper!”  Harry washed his face one more time before turning off the water and stepping out.  He dressed quickly and rushed to the Ministry, stopping only to give Maurus a hug on the way out.

As he strode through the doors of the DMLE, Harry forced himself to pull his shoulders back and push his chin up.  Ron, smiling with his usual good cheer, started to cross over to greet him from his spot by the coffee machine, but Robard’s assistant, _Smith? Smitz?_ _Right – Smirtz,_ reached Harry first.  “You are to come with me immediately per Head Auror Robards,” he ordered, placing a hand on Harry’s right arm.

Ron stopped dead in his tracks, watching helplessly as Smirtz walked away with Harry in tow.  Once they were gone, he cursed under his breath, running to find Hermione.

+++++++++++++++++

Smirtz pushed Harry forward toward Robards’ door then knocked for him.  They waited an uncomfortable moment before Robards yelled, “Enter.”  Smirtz smirked at Harry, opening the door but hanging back to close it without entering. 

Harry paused as he stepped over the threshold.  Head Auror Robards sat behind his desk in a large, leather wing-backed chair, looking over a file which lay open on his desk.  Across from him to the left were two Unspeakables, who looked up at Harry curiously from their chairs without making any move to stand.  To the right of the desk, also seated, was a Ministry drone Harry had seen in the hallways when he visited Hermione in legal.  He knew none of the men other than Robards.

His mouth dry, Harry forced himself to approach the desk.  No chair had been left for him, so he stood in a relaxed parade rest and waited for Robards to speak.  Robards allowed the silence to draw out for a minute before starting, “I received your report this morning.  Excellent work.  Excellent work.”  He looked down at the file in front of him, smiling a smile that did not reach his eyes. “However, as you know, the ends do not justify the means.  We have received a complaint as to your methods.”  Robards looked Harry in the eye for the first time, studying his reaction.

“Sir?  A complaint from whom?”  Harry was bewildered.  He had been so very careful to follow all of the policies and procedures.  _Jackson?  But Jackson did far more wrong than I did!_  Harry’s wheels spun quickly, but he was at a loss as he thought over his interaction with Jackson.  He had Jackson’s permission for both the medical report and the blood!

The drone from legal spoke up, “We received a complaint from the mother of an infant who was taken to St. Mungo’s after an attack.  The baby was, thank God, uninjured, however her complaint is that you took the baby’s medical record with you without authorization, either from family or from the Healers caring for the infant.”

Robards shuffled the papers in his file for a moment.  “This is a very serious accusation.  Aside from any administrative punishments within the DMLE, you face up to six months in Azkaban if convicted.”

Harry’s heart plummeted to his feet.  _Six months in Azkaban!  What if I’m not there when Draco dies?_   He could not see a way out.  After all, he _had_ taken the baby’s chart.  The other four wizards stared at him, waiting for his response.  As he could not think of anything to say by way of defense, after some long minutes he asked, “What is the process from here?”

Robards gestured to the two Unspeakables, “The Unspeakables are responsible for any investigation into the actions of a member of the Auror corps.  As they begin their investigation, you will be allowed to continue in your current role… for now.  I must also advise you that you are not to discuss this investigation with any of your fellow Aurors, nor any reporters who might be interested in the doings of the Boy Who Lived.”   He sneered a bit at this last epithet.

The Ministry drone piped up once again, “I must advise you to seek counsel.  There is a list of approved lawyers which you can obtain from the Law Office.  They are the only ones authorized to hear about this sort of thing – you may not employ private counsel.”

“If we are done here?” Robards concluded, “I have real work to do.”  He opened the door for them wordlessly and the other wizards showed themselves out.  Harry wandered back to his desk in a daze.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

When he looked up from his desk again, over an hour had passed.  He had not even opened the file he had been staring at.  He forced himself to flip through it, but the words blurred on the page.  He hurriedly wiped off his face when he heard a hand on the doorknob.

“I tried to talk to Hermione,” Ron blurted as he rushed through the door, slamming it closed behind him.  “She told me she can’t discuss it with me!”

Harry looked up at him, feeling like he was moving through mud. “I’m not allowed to talk about it, either.”

“Oh,” Ron came to an abrupt halt.  He ran his fingers through his carrot red hair.  “That bad, huh?”  He looked Harry over for another long moment before breaking the silence, “I know we can’t talk about it, but if you need anything… you know, we can go out for a beer and talk about other stuff or whatever.”

“Thanks, Ron,” Harry forced himself to smile.  “You’re a good friend.”

“You should go home, Harry.  I’m not sure what is going on, but you look horrible.  Best to keep from bleeding in the water.  The sharks will circle.”  With that, Ron turned and left Harry alone once again in his office, door shut against the world.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry had forced himself to stay until official Ministry quitting time, 5 o’clock, then made for the floo while avoiding anyone he knew.  He had spent the day paralyzed, staring at that file without reading a word.  He had to get home.

He stepped out of the floo into the living room to find Severus and Maurus sitting together, speaking together in hushed voices.  Maurus’ eyes were red and his face blotchy.  Severus turned to Harry the moment he exited the floo and ordered, “Go get undressed quickly.  Lee is coming for dinner.”

“You want me to be naked with LEE here?” Harry objected, finally snapping out of the fog that had enveloped him all day.

“Yes, Harry.  Go.  It’s not the first time Lee has seen a boy kept naked at home.”

“But he hasn’t seen _me_ naked before.  And what about Maurus?  If you’re keeping boys naked, perhaps the slave should be naked also!” Harry shouted, gesturing pointedly to Maurus.

Maurus flinched as though he had been slapped, then looked down at his feet as a tear escaped his eye.  Harry turned to look at him for the first time, really, and noticed that the collar was gone from around his neck.  _Oh, fuck._ Harry thought in the split second before Severus reacted, _Joseph is dead so he’s not a slave any more._   Severus shot to his feet and collared Harry roughly, shoving him toward the study.  Harry regained his balance and walked the rest of the way under his own power.  _Could I have been any more of an asshole?_ He thought to himself as Severus closed the door sharply behind him.

“I have never been more ashamed to call you my boy than I am right now,” Severus growled.

“Sir, I… I don’t know what to say.  I’m sorry.”  Harry kept his gaze down and instinctively clasped his hands behind his back. 

“How about not saying anything?  Your mouth is the cause of more trouble than I can shake a stick at!  Wait here.”  Severus stormed out of the room, returning a few minutes later with a senior cane and a 4 inch pecker gag.  “Strip.”

Harry’s eyes fixed on the cane for a moment, then he pulled himself together and undressed, folding the clothes neatly as he went.  Finally, he stood completely naked, hands clasped behind his back, head bowed, his cock completely shriveled between his legs, his mouth as arid as the desert.

“Why are you being punished?” Severus asked, beginning the litany, his voice losing the last edge of anger as he slipped into his role.

“I… I drew attention to the fact that Maurus was no longer a slave because his Master died this morning,” Harry forced out.  _Confession is good for the soul, I guess._

“Do you have any explanation?”

“No, Sir.”

“Over the desk, Harry, grab the other side.  Ass out.  Arch your back.” Harry maneuvered his body as directed by Severus, presenting as nice a target as he could.  He pushed his forehead into the desk as he heard Severus step into position just to his left.  Severus sighed deeply, then continued, “Six of the best, Harry.  Count for me.” 

Without any more delay, Harry felt a single tap, then heard the swish of the cane cutting through the air and the crack when it hit his flesh.  There was an initial sting like fire, followed soon after by a deeper, more encompassing pain that bloomed over a much longer period.  He gritted his teeth against it, waiting for it to peak before gasping out, “One, Sir.  Thank you, Sir.  May I have another, Sir.”

“May I have another _harder_ , Sir,” Severus corrected.

Harry looked back at Severus over his shoulder.  _Harder?_   Severus had never done this before.  Harry swallowed in his dry mouth.  “May I have another harder, Sir,” he amended.

He watched wide-eyed as Severus drew the cane back again, before closing his eyes and turning his head quickly back to the desk.  _Swish – crack!_   The pain bloomed again.  Harry grit his teeth again against the pain, but this time he couldn’t help the whine that leaked past his lips at the end.  The stroke was, indeed, harder.  “Two, Sir.  Thank you, Sir.  May I have another harder, Sir.”

Severus delivered the last four strokes, each one impossibly harder than the last, until on the sixth stroke Harry’s skin split, a delicate trail of crimson dripping from the wound, down his right butt cheek and onto the floor.  Harry finally screamed, unable to hold back any more.

Harry wasn’t sure he could stand, so he stayed where he was while Severus dug through the top drawer of his desk, eventually pulling out a vial of salve.  It would heal the cut in his skin but not stop the bruising or the pain.  Severus wanted him to feel this for a while.

Harry continued to sob into the desk, finally letting loose all the tears he had held back that day, snot pooling with tears and drool on the desk as Severus delicately spread the salve with a single finger.  Once he was done he asked softly, “Can you stand?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied, still sniffling as he drew himself up.  It took a moment for his head to clear, and Severus held his shoulder to steady him until he was sure he could do it on his own.

“Kneel, Harry, and open your mouth,” Severus ordered, reaching for the soft, rubber pecker gag.  Harry complied, and Severus placed the gag gently, buckling the strap at the back of his head.  “So you don’t have to worry about that mouth for the rest of the night.”  Then he wiped off Harry’s face and looked him over meditatively.  “I want you to keep your hands behind your back unless you are using them tonight.  Do you want me to bind you, or will you keep them there?”

Harry, unable to speak, clasped his hands wordlessly behind his back above his buttocks to demonstrate his willingness to do it without bonds.

“Good boy.”  Severus grabbed Harry firmly by the back of the neck and led him back to the living room, where Maurus was still sitting on the sofa.

Harry wanted desperately to apologize, but with the gag in his mouth had no real way to do so.  He tried to catch Maurus’ eye to give him at least an apologetic look, but Maurus was in his own world.  Finally, Harry walked over to him, knelt awkwardly as his hands were still behind his back, and leaned forward to rest his cheek on the instep of Maurus’ boot.

“It’s okay, Harry.  I know you didn’t mean anything by it.  It’s just been a long day,” Maurus said.  Harry righted himself, but then realized that he had drooled all over Maurus’ boot.  He cursed the gag silently before leaning back over to wipe the drool off with his cheek.

“Enough dramatics,” Severus interjected sharply.  Harry knelt up and Severus snapped a lead onto his collar, pulling him away from Maurus and next to his own chair.  Harry followed the implicit order, shuffling awkwardly on his knees to where Severus wanted him.

They waited together in silence for several minutes, until the fire flared and Lee stepped out.  “Evening, Severus,” he nodded toward Severus as he entered the room.  “Maurus, how are you holding up?”

“Well enough, sir,” Maurus replied as he stood to greet his guardian.

Lee looked down at Harry, an eyebrow raised in amusement.  “Finally bringing the brat down a peg or two?”  Harry felt his face flush and wanted to shoot back, but gagged as he was he could do nothing but either try to stare down Lee from his place on the floor or just accept that he didn’t have any way to defend himself.  He bowed his head and kept his gaze on the floor.

Severus snorted and stood.  “It’s good to see you, Lee.  I wish the circumstances were different.”  He then turned and led the way to the dining room.  He hadn’t given Harry a chance to stand before he started off, so Harry crawled after.  _At least he didn’t bind my hands_ , he thought, realizing at the same moment he was grateful for something that most people took for granted.

The table was set for three, and so Harry knelt next to Severus with his hands behind his back.  His mouth forced open by the gag, his drool dripped slowly from his mouth to his chin before finally falling onto his chest and the floor.  He clenched his left hand tightly in his right as he fought the nearly overwhelming urge to reach forward and wipe the drool off his face.  He didn’t mind Severus or Maurus seeing him like this, but Lee was just too much.  He wished he could disappear into the floor.  Every so often he moved the wrong way and the gag triggered a gag reflex, producing even more drool for the next couple of minutes.  It was miserable.

As Harry struggled with himself, the conversation at the table flowed easily.  “Have arrangements been made for the funeral?” Severus asked Lee.

“Joseph wanted his family to take care of that.  Unfortunately, they are not open to a lifestyle like ours…”

“Gay or S/M?”

“Either.  Both,” Lee continued, “Joseph’s brother is aware of both proclivities and doesn’t approve of either.  He asked that our crowd stay clear of the funeral to avoid offending the rest of the family.”

“Will I be able to go?” Maurus asked.

Lee gave him an apologetic look.  “They’ve asked that you not.”  Maurus pressed his lips together and fidgeted with his napkin for a moment before looking up again.

“Of course, I’ll honor their wishes,” He finally said.

“I won’t,” Lee said definitively.  “I spoke with the funeral director who, it turns out, is gay.  He won’t go against the family completely, but he’s arranged a private viewing for you a few hours before the family viewing.”

“Will he be able to attend the burial itself?” Severus queried.

Lee squirmed a bit in his chair before continuing uncomfortably, “That is more complicated.  The funeral director offered to have Maurus pretend to be a member of the burial crew.  I don’t know how you feel about dressing up in coveralls and toting a shovel?”  He turned to Maurus.

Maurus thought for a moment, then gave a half-smile.  “It somehow seems appropriate that the slave personally buries his Master.”

The three men ate some more, then discussed Joseph’s property.  The vast majority of it would go to his family.  He had a life insurance policy that would go to Maurus, who would also have the savings that Joseph had taken from his salary over the years.

“We went over to Joseph’s earlier to get Maurus’ personal effects,” Severus told Lee.  “I’ve shrunk them and placed them by the floo for when you two head home.”  Harry’s eyes widened as he realized that Maurus was leaving for Lee’s tonight.  He had hoped Maurus would stay longer, have a chance to adjust.

“Thank you,” Lee responded, “I must have missed you.  I went to get Joseph’s personal effects and to … ah … whitewash things for his family.  Maurus,” Lee turned to face the unwillingly emancipated slave, “I though he would want you to have this.”  Lee took something from his shirt pocket, too small for Harry to make out.  He placed it on the table and circled his wand over it, restoring it to its true size.

“Joseph’s Muir cap,” Lee explained unnecessarily.

Maurus took it by the sides and placed it near him on the table.  “Thank you, Sir.”  Maurus reached into his pocket and placed his collar, its lock broken, on the table next to the cap.  He looked at both for a long time, as though trying to convince himself that it was true – he was no longer a slave and Joseph was dead.  Finally, he shook his head and looked back toward Lee.  “If you would?  Shrink them?”  Lee did, and Maurus tucked the diminutive keepsakes into his pocket.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Finally, dinner concluded.  Maurus, Lee and Severus stood together.  Harry stayed kneeling and looking at the floor.  It was just all too much.

“May I?” Maurus asked Severus, gesturing toward Harry.

“Yes, of course.”

Maurus took a black handkerchief from his left back pocket and squatted down in front of Harry, who didn’t look up until Maurus put a knuckle under his chin and forced his head up.  Maurus delicately wiped the drool from Harry’s chin, the dirt from his cheek where he had cleaned Maurus’ boot earlier, then the drool from his chest and legs. The completely vulnerable look in Harry’s eyes invited a paternal feeling in Maurus.  Finally done, Maurus kissed him on the forehead and whispered in his ear, “I’ll see you soon, boy.  Be good.”

Maurus stood, and Harry looked back down at the floor.  Maurus’ boots were soon replaced by Lee’s.  Harry cringed, knowing that Lee was going to ruffle his hair like he always did.  It was bad enough when he was clothed and sitting comfortably.  He made no move to protect himself, though.  Just as Lee’s hand would have touched his head, Severus’ stopped him.  “Leave him be, Lee.  He’s had a long enough day.”

Once Lee and Maurus had cleared off, Harry on Severus’ lead the whole time, Severus sat down and pulled Harry down so that he was kneeling between his knees.  Severus pulled up Harry’s chin to examine his face.  He looked beautifully delicate with the gag in his mouth and more drool beginning to pool at his chin.  The pain in his eyes was stunning.  “Good boy,” He murmured as he gently unbuckled the gag and took it out of Harry’s mouth.  Harry worked his jaw a little to relieve the stiffness.  “You okay, Harry?”

“Yes, Sir.  I’m sorry I was difficult earlier.”

“Paid in full.  I’m just sorry you had to miss Maurus’ goodbye dinner.  What had you so out of sorts?”

Harry huffed.  “You can’t figure it out?”

Severus’ lips disappeared in a thin line of disapproval.

“Sorry, Sir,” Harry backed off quickly.  _With my luck he puts that fucking gag back in!_

“I prefer you tell me, brat.”

Harry sighed.  “The thing is, I’m not even sure I’m allowed to tell you all of it.”  He rubbed his face with his hands before continuing.  “Well, first what I’m sure I can tell you.  Joseph died and so Maurus is gone.  I liked having him here.  And I worry about what’s going to happen to him.”

“Not for you to worry about, Harry.  He’s well provided for, and Lee will make sure he has a good transition into whatever life he decides he wants.”

“But it’s horrible that he won’t be able to go to the funeral properly!”

“True, but also something that can’t be changed.  What else has you upset?”

“Joseph dying makes the fact that Draco is dying more real.  I guess I kind of imagined things going on like they had been forever.  I’m so afraid of losing Draco.  And that leads me to the other thing… I’m not sure I’m allowed to tell you, but they said no telling other Aurors or the press.  Since you’re neither?”  Harry sighed.  He had to tell someone.  “I’m under investigation at work.  They told me I could go to Azkaban for six months.  What if I’m in Azkaban when Draco dies?”  Harry started crying as soon as he verbalized his secret fear.

“Hold on.  We aren’t there yet.  Try to hold off on nailing his coffin shut before he dies.  What are you under investigation for, anyway?”

“They are investigating an accusation that I took the baby’s medical report from St. Mungo’s.”

“Odd.  How did they know you did that?” Severus mused.

“The mom reported me.”  Harry rested his head against Severus leg.

“I thought you said the mother was hit by the curse.”  Harry jerked up.

“She was!”  The hope receded as quickly as it had come.  “Well, at least I think that was the mom.  Maybe it was someone else who just happened to have the baby that day.”

“But you said there was no family to be found.  If they were close enough to see the baby’s report taken, wouldn’t you have had an easy time finding them?”

“Good point.,” Harry paused, “but still doesn’t save me.  I _did_ take the baby’s report, and the penalty for that is whatever administrative punishment the DMLE gives, as well as up to six months in Azkaban.”

“Did you admit?”

“No, Severus.  Should I have?  I just asked what the process was from there.”

“Good boy.  Don’t lie, but avoid telling the truth if you can.  Frankly, this whole thing seems a bit fishy.  The Aurors aren’t exactly known for using only aboveboard tactics when solving serious crime.  Hell, they cast cruicatus at me during an interrogation once. So why do they suddenly care about you walking off with a report _that should have been automatically duplicated to your files anyway_?”

“You think they’re trying to scare me?”

“Trying?  I think they have scared you.  I’m surprised you didn’t come home from work early.”

“Ron told me I should, but I figured you’d want me to stay at work.”

“You figured right.  You need to go about things the exact same way you always do.  Just now keep an eye out and try to figure out who is trying to take you out of the picture.”


	19. Reunions

By the time Harry exited the floo Friday evening he had nothing left in him.  He had spent the week hiding in his office, avoiding even Ron.  Afraid of doing something wrong, constantly aware of the surveillance of the Unspeakables, he sat at his desk all week looking over the same file, head throbbing and stomach churning.  Still, he went in every day and sat at his desk.  He was on time.  His uniform was regulation.  He had done what Severus told him to do – he had gone to work.  And it felt like a victory to have done it.

Home hadn’t been the haven it usually was the last week, either.  Severus worked around the clock on the antidote, crawling in to bed long after Harry had fallen asleep and leaving again by the time Harry woke up.  Some days all he saw of Severus was the five minutes he knelt for him on first arriving home.

When the end of the work week finally rolled around, Harry, having never learned the art of exiting a floo gracefully, stumbled out, then went to the bedroom to strip.  As he folded his clothes and placed them neatly back in his drawer, he heard Severus snort behind him.  “I thought Aurors were supposed to be difficult to sneak up on, Harry.”

_What’s he in such a good mood about?_   Harry wondered, but he turned and knelt with his eyes down where he stood.

A voice wheezy from disuse came from the bed.  “I’m gone for a couple of weeks, Severus, and you’ve tamed the brat,” Harry shot up from his knees and, seeing Draco smiling weakly back at him, launched himself at him, vibrating with excitement and joy. 

“I think the boy is happy to see you,” Severus laughed, his good mood now making perfect sense.

It took Harry only a few moments to realize how weak Draco was.  He couldn’t even raise his arms to return the embrace.  “Severus said it will take a long time to get my strength back, as I was completely immobile for a couple of weeks,” Draco apologized. 

“But it _will_ come back,” Severus added reassuringly.

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me how close you were, Severus?” Harry demanded.

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up, boy.  I didn’t know if it would work until it did.” Severus paused, wondering if he should reveal the next, “and I didn’t want to scare you – I tried it on myself before I gave it to him...  To make sure it wasn’t poisonous.  The ingredients individually quite toxic and are not usually combined.”

“You did _what_?  Severus, what would I have done if you had died and I’d lost _both_ of you?”

“That’s why I don’t tell you these things.”

“But what would happen?  I don’t have a guardian like Maurus,” Harry objected, his blood pressure rising.

“I didn’t know you wanted one,” Severus replied seriously, considering the possibility for the first time, “Do you?”

Harry thought for a moment.  “Yes.  I’m not sure what I would do, Severus.  We live in your quarters and I was only really on my own for a few months… If I had to take care of Draco and bury you?  I’m not sure what I would have done.”

Severus ruffled Harry’s hair.  “Okay, let me think about who it should be.”

“Maurus?”

“No.  He’s not in a situation to be able to do that.  Lee?”

Harry grimaced.  He didn’t like Lee much.  Not for any serious reason, but…

Severus shook his head before continuing gently.  “Just let me think about it, okay?  It may be someone you don’t know well, but I’ll come up with someone responsible.  Hopefully you’ll never need it.”

Draco had been looking from one to the other as they deliberated before finally locking his eyes on Severus and asking, “Are you going to get in bed?  Or do I need to listen to you two make arrangements for what might have happened but didn’t?”

“You didn’t have to live through the last two weeks, Draco.  You don’t get to blow off what we went through,” Severus replied harshly.  Draco apologized quickly.  Severus, unable to stay angry with a boy who could barely move, shoved Harry over to make room and hopped into bed.  While none but Harry would admit it in later years, they spent the rest of the evening snuggling until one by one the drifted to sleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry woke early the next morning and lay in the dark listening to Draco and Severus breath in a syncopated rhythm.  His mind bubbled with the anxieties of the past week: six months in Azkaban, the meeting with Robards, the Unspeakables watching him for any misstep, losing Severus, losing Draco, trying to make it on his own if he lost them, and, of course, the worst case scenario – Draco alive but in a coma for a year, Severus dead, and getting six months in Azkaban.  As he ran through the last two weeks in his head, a single thought crystalized, cold and dark as black ice: _Why threaten me with Azkaban when they know my lover is dying? What did I do to make them hate me so much?  Am I that horrible a person?_

A couple of hours later he had gained nothing from his worrying beyond a throbbing headache and severe nausea.  He got out of bed and sat on the floor in the living room next to Severus’ chair.  _If I were a slave, I would probably sit here.  Slaves don’t get to use the furniture.  At least that’s how it is in the books._   Harry sighed.  _I wonder when Severus will wake up?_

It was an hour later, just as Harry had started to nod off, that Severus emerged from the bedroom.  Seeing Harry there on the floor, naked and somehow smaller than usual, Severus took his place in his chair. 

“Are you okay, Harry?” He asked gently, rubbing his hand over his boy’s head. 

Harry snuggled his face into Severus’ thigh but didn’t say anything.  Severus waited patiently for an answer until, after a minute, Harry pulled himself up onto his knees and bowed his head.  “Sir, can I be your slave again?”  This time there was no play about him when he asked.

Severus pulled Harry’s head back to his thigh, and Harry docilly accepted the maneuvering.  “For how long?” Severus asked.

“A week.”

Severus sat silently for a long time, alternately ruffling Harry’s hair then flattening it again.  “A week,” he finally said in a level tone. “Wouldn’t you rather enjoy Draco’s being awake again?  Be his boy again?  Make jokes and push back and be your usual bratty self?”

“I’m not sure I can go back to being that boy, sir.”

Severus reached down for Harry’s chin and pushed his face up.  Harry kept his eyes down and moved his hands back behind his back.  _If I look a slave maybe he’ll let me be a slave._

“You managed to get through a war without losing your innocence, but I wasn’t able to protect you from the last two weeks,” Severus commented sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“Being Peter Pan was never my goal, sir.”

Severus let go of Harry’s chin and snorted, a half grin on his face.  “No, I guess not.  If you are going to be my slave for a week it’ll be more than play.  You’ll take next week off work to tend to Draco and the house.  I’ll tell the house elves to find other work for the week.  Your rules from last time will still hold, except the “Master” every sentence thing, which gets old.  What limits do you have?”

“I’m sure I have them, but I don’t really need them, Severus.  I trust that you’ll keep me safe.  Our limits are mostly the same – I don’t think you’ll take me where I don’t want to go.”

“Don’t be so sure, Harry.  You asked me to turn you into a slave.  The way we’ve always conducted ourselves was based on a very different archetype.  What are your limits?”

“Bloodplay, except piercing was okay that one time, scat, permanent marks, damage… I think that’s it,” Harry said into Severus’ thigh.

Severus nodded slowly and started rubbing Harry’s hair again.  “I don’t think anything will quite bring home to you what being my slave would be more than lending you to a friend of mine.  How do you feel about that?”

Harry tensed for a long moment.  Severus thought he would balk, but instead Harry said quietly, “I’d rather not.”

“Good.  That will make it all the more effective.”

Harry looked up, “Sir?”

“Doing what you and I both like when they happen to coincide won’t make you a slave.  Doing what I want when you’d rather not will.  And nothing will communicate to your innermost self that you really are a slave than being lent out like the piece of valuable property you are.”

_A piece of valuable property._   Harry rolled the words over in his mind several times before answering.  “I’d rather you not lend me out, sir, but I won’t say no, either, if it’s what you want.”

“Good boy.  I accept you as my slave, then, for the week.  Write to whomever you must to get the week off.  You are entitled to a couple of weeks personal leave to care for ailing family.”

_He knew.  He had this whole thing planned out!  That’s why he didn’t let me take off work while Draco was in a coma.  Anyone could have cared for him then… now that he’s awake,_ I’ll _be the one doing it._ “Yes, Master.  Thank you, Sir.”

“Now, whom did you pick for legal representation?”

Harry blushed and straightened himself, pulling away from Severus in his shame.  “Master… I… I never got the list…” He faltered.

“You’re joking.”

“No, Master.  I’m…  I didn’t want to see anyone or… have to talk to anyone or anything.”

“So, you just avoided the situation and pretended like it didn’t exist?”  Severus waited for Harry to reply for a long minute, but Harry for once was at a loss for words.  “Fine.  You will also write to legal and request the list.  You will give it to me and I will select a lawyer for you.”

“Yes, Master.”

Severus spent the next half hour outlining Harry’s duties.  For the most part, they were quite mundane: expectations for housework, foods he preferred, Draco’s plan of care.  Harry quickly became overwhelmed with the information, so Severus handed him a quill and some parchment to take notes.  Finally, Severus stopped.  “Stay there,” he ordered, getting up and walking over to the boxes where the items from the work room had been placed.  After several minutes searching, he pulled out a pair of light weight manacles.  “Stand up,” he ordered on returning to Harry.  He fettered Harry’s hands in front of him, then handed Harry the ankle cuffs and ordered him to place them on himself.  Once he set the locks, he put one set of keys in his pocket and the second set on the mantle over the floo in case of an emergency. 

Harry tested the restraints.  The chains were short enough that he would have to think about them when he walked, but long enough that he would be able to work relatively unencumbered.  Oddly, they didn’t make him feel diminished so much as cared for.  _I guess he doesn’t want to lose me,_ Harry mused.

“Now, go check on Draco then get breakfast ready.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Are you sure about this?” Draco asked in his wheezy voice, eyeing Harry’s shackles for the hundredth time.  “I mean, why do you need to be a slave?”

“I don’t know how to explain it, Draco.  You’ll have to meet Maurus to understand.”  Harry fidgeted with his cuffs before trying to explain, “I’m such a flake.  I was so worried that I would flake out when you needed caring for.  Not right away, but after six months of wiping your ass, turning you every two hours so you didn’t get bedsores… I was worried I’d find a reason to just run off and do something else.  But Maurus… you just _know_ he would have been there a year, ten years… twenty years later taking care of Joseph.  I want to be like that.”

“You do realize there are a lot of people who aren’t flakes who also are not slaves, right?”

Harry absently pulled at his chains.  It was comforting having them there, somehow. Someone who loved him put them there.  “I know, Draco, but I think my way of becoming steady is by being a slave.”

“Did Severus put you up to this?”

“No.  He discouraged it.  Not for nothing, so did Maurus.  They both think I’m too… well, little to be a slave.”

Draco snorted.  “So, is this some sort of proving yourself thing?”

“No.  It’s just what I think I need to do.”

“Are you sure you aren’t making a mistake?”

“How would I know?  If I am, it’s not a big deal.  This is for a week.  I can back out at any time and go back to being a boy.  And it’s Severus we’re talking about – he’s not going to let me get hurt.”

Draco shook his head again.  “Harry, he’s planning on lending you out to a friend.  What if his friend hurts you?”

“Severus wouldn’t lend me to anyone he didn’t trust.  In the end, that’s what this is all about – trust.  And I trust Severus and his judgement more than I trust my own most days.”

“Whatever,” Draco said abruptly.  He looked Harry up and down, taking in the naked boy in chains, and sneered teasingly, “I can’t say I object to the view, slave.”

Harry looked up at him through lowered lashes, “You know you are welcome to far more than the view, right, Draco?”

Draco laughed, his hollowed cheeks disappearing in a tremendous smile.  “I can’t even lift my arms, boy!”

“I’ll do all the work, Draco.  I’ve missed you.  Just lie back and enjoy.”

And Draco did.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

It was early evening before Severus stepped from the floo.  He had spent the day with the Chief Potioneer at St. Mungo’s going over the potion and the first patient.  They were obtaining ingredients for a large production run so that they could start healing the cursed.

“Harry!” Severus called out.

Harry came immediately from the kitchen where he had been making dinner and knelt in front of him.  _Did he have to come back now of all times?  The chicken is going to burn if he doesn’t dismiss me._

“Wait here,” Severus ordered before walking over to the boxes from the play room.  After several minutes of digging, he found what he was looking for.

_Dinner is going to burn!  Dinner is going to burn!_   Harry’s heart was racing.  _Do I tell him, or do I sit here? He must know I’m cooking.  Now he wants to play with me?_   “Master, I’m cooking,” He finally said uncertainly.

“You _were_ cooking.  I have other plans.  Stand up.”  Severus pulled a hood over Harry’s face.  It was a loose fitting, like a bag which closed around the neck.  There were holes at the nose and, unlike a tighter fitting hood, Harry could still see light.  As he breathed in the hood pulled against his face making it hard to get a full breath.  When he exhaled, the hood blew away from his face again.  It took a minute, but he eventually figured out how to breath with the hood.  It still felt like he couldn’t get quite enough air as he would like, but he wasn’t suffocating.  _Fucking dinner is ruined.  I don’t know why I bothered_ , Harry thought as the smell of burning chicken wafted into the hood.  Despite desperately wanting to be pissy about it, he felt his cock harden and his breathing quicken as the feeling of helplessness set in. 

Once he was calm, Severus unlocked the manacles.  He placed a belt around Harry’s waist, and his leather cuffs on his wrists and ankles.  After locking everything into place, he pulled Harrys left arm behind his back and locked it to a D-ring on the right side of his belt, then his right arm back to a D-ring on the left, crossing his arms behind him.  Finally, he added a short length of chain between Harry’s ankles. 

Severus grabbed the front of the belt and pulled Harry after him, moving slowly to allow Harry the short steps required by the chain between his ankles.  “Clearwater residence,” Severus said in a level voice once they arrived at the floo. 

_Fuck.  He’s lending me to Lee.  God, I know I’ll be_ safe _with Lee, but I don’t want to suck his dick.  Maurus said he didn’t bathe… oh, God, he’s going to have cheese under his foreskin._ Harry felt his heart start to race, and he was breathing so quickly he couldn’t get air through the hood _.  Do I really want this?_ Harry knew that he could ask Severus to stop and he would, even if they were standing in the middle of Lee’s living room.  Severus felt Harry’s hesitation and waited for him to decide.  Once the muscles in Harry’s shoulders and legs relaxed again Severus pulled him through, a steadying hand on his shoulder as they exited the floo on the other side.

“Who knew the little brat would make such a pretty present!” Lee exclaimed as Severus dusted himself off.  Harry focused on his breathing and trying not to panic.  _Not Lee.  Please not Lee,_ he begged silently, knowing it was Lee he was being lent to and dreading it just the same.  _What would Maurus do?_ He tried to calm himself.  _Maurus would just accept that this is his Master’s will.  Suck the cock, get over the cheese.  It’ll be okay.  It’s safe… Lee won’t hurt you.  Focus on Master’s pleasure not your own._   Harry tried to talk himself down off the ledge.  But another part of him whined: _Why does it have to be Lee?_

Harry jumped as he felt a strong hand on the back of his neck, pulling him away from Severus.  Part of him wanted to scream.  Severus felt so… safe.  _Why do I have to be lent out?  Why am I doing this?  Why not just stay a boy?_ He stumbled a bit, having forgotten the length of the ankle chain, and a second hand caught his belt to steady him.  “C’mon, slaveboy,” came a familiar growl that wasn’t Lee’s, “You know how long it’s been since I’ve whipped someone?  Since I’ve fucked someone?”  _Oh, thank God, IT’S MAURUS!!!_   Harry thought exuberantly as he recognized the voice and, in retrospect, the firm grip on his neck.  “You’re going to have to bear up under 20 years of pent up aggression, boy.  Severus thinks you can handle it, though.”

“Have fun, Maurus,” Severus laughed.  “Remember, the slave doesn’t get to cum.”  Harry heard a jangling noise fly through the air before ending with a tinkle in Maurus’ hand.  _The keys.  Always a good thing to keep with the slave._ Harry thought unnecessarily, his near panic rapidly subsiding to giddiness.

“Come on, Severus, have a drink before you head back home,” Harry heard Lee say as Maurus maneuvered him out of the room.

“The only question is,” Maurus whispered just loud enough to be heard through the hood, “Do I fuck you then whip you, or whip you then fuck you.”

Harry moaned in anticipation. “Either way, Sir.” 

Maurus smacked him hard on the ass.  “You have a real hard time with the whole ‘don’t talk without permission’ thing, don’t you?”  He smacked him again.

Harry nodded his acknowledgement, but kept his mouth shut this time.

“Keep talking and I’ll gag you,” Maurus growled close to Harry’s ear.  “You’d like that, though, wouldn’t you?  You know how hot you looked drooling all over yourself at dinner the other night?  How fun it was to watch you struggle not to wipe your face?  How vulnerable you looked with your mouth forced open around that gag?”

Harry felt Maurus pull back on the belt a bit to signal a halt, then a hand on his shoulder pushing him to his knees.  “Can’t gag you yet, though.  I’ve got another use for that smart ass mouth of yours.”  Maurus loosened the hood, then pulled it up and off.

Harry’s relief at being able to breath freely was short lived.  Maurus’ dick was quickly shoved between his lips, not even giving him a chance to moisten them before his mouth was full of cock.  “Suck, boy.  Make me feel good.”  Harry explored Maurus with his mouth, every so often looking up to admire the rest of him.  _I wish my hands were free so I could squeeze his ass_ , Harry thought regretfully.  They weren’t, though, so Harry pulled every trick out of his bag to make Maurus moan with his mouth and tongue alone.  He drew him deep into his throat, then pulled back in slid his tongue under his foreskin over the glans, nibbled at the ridge with his lips, licked like a lolly pop, sucked his balls, then took him deep again and again.  Finally, Maurus grabbed his ears and started fucking his face hard and fast.  It wasn’t long before Maurus came deep in Harry’s throat with a sigh.  

Harry suckled gently, stopping only when Maurus pushed him off.  “That was nice, Harry,” Maurus released his ears and ruffled his hair affectionately.  “On your feet. Don’t think I’ll go easy just because I like you.”

Harry rose ungracefully from his sore knees.  Maurus pushed him against the wall, then bent down to unlock his ankle chain and release the cuffs from the belt.  “Arms on the wall, boy,” Maurus ordered, then kicked Harry’s legs apart, letting the cool air waft past his cock and balls.  Harry bit his lower lip to keep a groan from escaping.  He was hard and leaking.  He knew he wasn’t coming tonight and knowing that paradoxically made him even harder.  “Stay,” Maurus ordered before walking away.

He returned a moment later and, without warning, slipped a lubed finger into Harry’s ass.  “Like that, boy?”  He whispered close to Harry’s ear, “give it up, boy,” he pulled out briefly before sliding two fingers in.  “Relax and let me in.”  Both fingers slid out, and Harry felt a cold, blunt object pressing against his hole in their place.  He bore down to help ease the plug’s passage, and Maurus took his time working it in, but by the time the widest part passed Harry was panting and pushing his forehead into the wall.  He remembered Maurus asking about fisting when they negotiated before.  _It wasn’t a limit.  Should I have made it a limit?_

“Been fisted before, boy?” Maurus asked as though reading Harry’s mind.  Harry shook his head no.  “I won’t do it tonight, then.  Severus should get to bust your fisting cherry.”  Maurus tapped the base of the plug, making it vibrate against Harry’s prostate.  Harry moaned and started thrusting involuntarily against the wall.  Maurus chuckled but stopped to give Harry a chance to recover.

“You don’t need that mouth anymore,” Maurus added, “Open.”  Harry opened his mouth and Maurus placed a medium sized ball gag in his mouth, fastening it gently.  “There, now you won’t be tempted to speak out of turn.  No stuffy nose I need to worry about?”

Harry shook his head.

“Good.  Relax.  I won’t leave you alone with a gag in.”

Harry nodded his appreciation of the reassurance.  He’d never had a gag go badly but he’d heard stories.  This particular gag, though, was small enough that he could breath around it if he really needed to.

“I’m gonna work you over pretty good now.  You gonna take it like a man, or should I tie you down?.”

“Ahhh hhoohh ill,” Harry said around the gag.

“You’ll hold still?”

Harry nodded.

“We’ll see,” Maurus said skeptically, pulling his belt from the loops with a menacing _whoosh_.  Harry glanced back.  The belt was full grain, black leather, 1 ½ inches wide and an eighth of an inch thick.  It was well-maintained but clearly worn long and often.  Harry faced back toward the wall and braced himself, setting his jaw against the gag.  He was surprised when the blow from Maurus’ belt landed on his upper back rather than his ass.  It was pretty gentle as beltings go, too.  _Shoulda guessed.  For all the hard demeanor, he’s spent the last 20 years a slave.  He’s not gonna lose control and whale on me._   Harry let himself relax into the blows.

Maurus brought up the intensity quickly, though, and soon Harry was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, grunting with each blow.  They fell faster as well as harder, and Harry wasn’t getting a chance to get over the last blow before the next fell.  He fought the urge to reach back and turn around.

Maurus watched Harry struggle as he worked, as he continued to beat him harder and faster.  He loved the interplay of the muscles in Harry’s shoulders, back, and thighs, one set straining to pull his hands off the wall, the other forcing his hands to stay in place, one set trying to protect Harry from the blows that fell mercilessly now, the other set overriding that instinct and holding Harry in place.  Harry’s moans and grunts became whines and screams, music to Maurus’ ears.

The tension between the drive to escape and the overriding imperative to stay which played out visibly in Harry’s body was invisibly mirrored by a parallel but separate tension in Maurus, between the predatory instinct to destroy and consume and the moderating constraints of civilized humanity. It had been so fucking long since he had done this to another man, pulled these noises from his throat, made him dance to this particular tune.  Part of him wanted to hurt Harry badly, to break his determination to stay in place then tie him down so he wouldn’t have a choice, to flay the skin from his back and the muscle from his bone, to hear the screams go shrill then hoarse then disappear entirely.  The other, stronger part of him loved Harry for taking this pain for him, for dancing this dance and making such beautiful sounds.  That part of him would comfort Harry when his ordeal was over, would protect him fiercely.  You could not invest so much energy in another man without loving him.

But before Maurus comforted him softly he needed to fuck him thoroughly.  He dropped the belt at the peak of the action, not bothering to bring Harry down gently.  He ripped open the button fly on his jeans, releasing his rampant cock and balls (years as a sub had gotten him in the habit of not wearing underwear).  He lubed his dick without missing a beat, then grabbed the now sobbing boy roughly and manhandled him to the bed where he flipped him face up and pushed his legs up toward his shoulders.  Maurus quickly worked the plug out of the boy’s ass and plunged in with a single thrust, pulling a strangled yawp from the slave beneath him. 

Maurus studied the boy’s face as he fucked him, hard and fast, knowing that this fuck after 20 years of not fucking would be imprinted on his memory the rest of his life.  He studied the boy’s half-lidded eyes, the drool that leaked from the corners of his gagged mouth, the tears that streaked his face.  As the fucking continued, the Harry’s face relaxed from tension and pain to ecstasy.  Suddenly, Harry opened his eyes wide and locked them on Maurus, shaking his head violently and trying to shout something past the gag.  He was going to come.

Maurus stopped thrusting for a moment and grabbed Harry’s balls.  He scrutinized Harry’s face and cock as he tightened his grip, once again drawing sobs and muffled attempts to beg past the gag from Harry.  Finally, Harry’s erection had completely shriveled and Maurus released his testicles to bear down on his ass again.  Only a few minutes later Maurus came screaming into Harry’s ass.

Maurus rolled off and pulled Harry over to him, arranging his head on his chest and his arm across his torso.  Maurus reached around and loosened the gag, pulling it delicately from Harry’s mouth.  Harry fisted Maurus’ chest hair tightly and sobbed into his armpit, pressing his forehead hard into his shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.  “Did I hurt you, Harry?  Are you okay?” Maurus finally asked, worried that he had gone too far.

“I have to come so bad, Sir.  I’m gonna die if I can’t come,” Harry whined, “It’s been a week, Sir.  Please let me come,” Harry begged.

Maurus tried to hold back his chuckles, but soon his whole body and then the whole bed shook with his laughter.  “ _That_ sobbing is because you didn’t get to _come_!  Fuck, slaveboy.”

Harry looked up with a hurt expression, “It’s not funny, Maurus!  An old foggy like you might be able to go without coming for a week at a time while being fucked to within an inch of his life, but at my age you just can’t _do_ that sort of thing!”

Maurus grabbed Harry shoulder and hip and shoved him roughly to the floor.  “Smart ass masochist!” he grumbled under his breath.

Harry shot to his feet.  “I’m not being a smart ass!  It _hurts_ to get that close to coming and not get to come!”

Maurus laughed again and, still laughing, pulled Harry back into bed, shaking his head.  “Severus said you don’t get to come, so you don’t get to come, boy.  Now show some proper respect or I’ll give you a real beating.”

Harry put on a look of exaggerated innocence, “Yes, Master.  This slave wishes only to please you, Master.  How might this slave continue to serve you, Master?”

Maurus couldn’t help but snicker.  Harry would never be a classic slave, but perhaps he could combine the best of a boy with the best of a slave.


	20. Boys Will Be Boys

Severus looked up from the _Daily Prophet_ from his place on the sofa as the floo flared, then discharged Harry and Maurus.  Maurus had a broad smile on his face and looked somehow taller than he had when Severus first met him.  Harry, on the other hand, looked like he had been put through the wringer.  The hood was off displaying his permanently messy hair and freshly slapped cheeks.  His arms were restrained behind his back as they had been the day before.  The ankle cuffs were on but not chained.  He had quite a bit of bruising over his ass and back, but no breaks in the skin.   Despite the physical messiness, he looked content and peaceful.  Harry gave Maurus a friendly half smile when Maurus discretely steadied him coming out of the floo, but then looked humbly down and approached Severus to kiss his feet.

Severus did nothing to acknowledge the obeisance, instead greeting Maurus, “Have fun?”

Maurus laughed, “Very much so.  Thank you for letting me be the one to break him in.  He’s a good egg.”  He paused before continuing in a more serious tone.  “May I speak to you in private?”

“Sure.  Let me have those keys back.”  Maurus handed Severus the keys to Harry’s locks.  Severus bent over the still kneeling Harry and released his wrist cuffs from the belt but left everything else in place.  Once this was done, he ordered Harry, “Draco is in bed still.  Wake him up and help him bathe and dress.  Then get the four of us breakfast.”

“Yes, Master.  Thank you, Master.” Harry answered before walking briskly to the bedroom.

Severus invited Maurus to sit down.  “What’s on your mind?”

“I know it hasn’t been very long since Joseph died, but I have a sense of what I would like to do now.  Do you have time to talk?”  He waited until Severus nodded, then continued, “I very much enjoyed my time in your household and hoped that I could come back more permanently.  Only, I don’t think I can be a slave again.  Topping Harry brought home to me how much I had suppressed that part of myself.”

“Regrets?”

Maurus smiled gently, “None.  I’m not going under for anyone else, but Joseph… Joseph was someone I will never regret, and that relationship… my only regret is that it ended so soon.  But Joseph was one of a kind.”

“So, what role would you like here?”

“I’m happy to defer to you, but I would want Harry to defer to me.”

“And Draco?”

Maurus thought for a long minute.  “I don’t know Draco at all.  Does there need to be a hierarchy between us?”

“If you two can get along, no.  If I constantly have to intervene in squabbles between you, I’ll skin the both of you.”

“We could make a short-term commitment, perhaps, to see how Draco and I get along, then extend things if it worked for everyone?”

“Prudent.  What does Lee think?”

“I wanted to check with you first, but if you are at least open to the idea I’ll discuss it with Lee and petition you formally if he thinks it’s a good idea.”

“Good.  Will you stay for breakfast?  I’d like you to get to know Draco better.”

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry struggled to maneuver Draco into the bathtub.  In some ways it was easier when he was in a coma -- just hover and move a limp body around.  Somehow, Harry didn’t think Draco would like to be moved like an inanimate object, so he carried/dragged him to the tub and somehow got him in without dunking him.

Draco’s strength was improving rapidly, but Harry still had to wash him.  Not wanting to take advantage of a defenseless Draco, Harry was careful to avoid sexual innuendo, but within a few seconds of starting to rub his hands over Draco’s back and arms he was rock hard and dripping precome.  He tried to keep his dick behind the edge of the tub when he came around to wash Draco’s front, but he had to sit on the edge to wash Draco’s far side.

“For me, Harry?” Draco teased, eyeing the rampant cock Harry was doing his best to hide.

“You have no fucking idea, Draco.  I haven’t come in over a week.  And not for want of being fucked within an inch of my life, either,” Harry grumbled.

“How much trouble do you think you would get in?” Draco asked, glancing at the open door.

Harry sighed, “It’s not about getting in trouble.  I’m trying to be a good slave.”

Draco gave a malicious smirk, then weakly reached up and grabbed Harry’s cock.  Before Harry registered what was happening, he was coming so hard it was painful, spewing over Draco’s arm and torso.  Draco crowed in triumph, “Looks like you’ll have to clean me off again!”

Harry looked aghast at his rapidly softening cock.  “Why did you _do_ that?” He demanded.  “I was doing so fucking well!”

“What’s the big deal, Harry?” Draco asked in genuine surprise.

“I’m _trying_ to be a good slave!  Severus told me I wasn’t allowed to come.  Maurus would have brought be off last night if _he_ hadn’t been ordered not to let me come.  And now you fucking bring me off without so much as a by your leave knowing full well I’m going to get punished for it.  _Why_ would you do that?”  The anger and frustration of a week’s suppressed sexual desire came out in a torrent, despite the mellowing effect of having just come.

“Do you really think Severus is going to be harsh about it?”

“I don’t know what he’s going to do,” Harry said as he stood up, “It almost doesn’t matter.  I _wanted_ to obey him.  Do you know how hard it is to do this slave thing even when someone isn’t trying to get you to slip up?”  Harry was yelling loud enough now to be heard in the living room, where Maurus and Severus were reading the newspaper together.

“I think you have forgotten your place, boy,” Draco growled from his place in the bath just as Severus arrived with Maurus following closely behind.

Harry turned and, after a quick glance at Severus’ glare, knelt and ducked his head, holding back tears of frustration.  _I’d been doing so well!_

Draco blushed deeply as Maurus entered.  On some level he knew that Maurus had seen him naked, hell, had changed his diaper, but on another level he didn’t want to be naked and too weak to get out of the bathtub himself in front of a stranger.

“What is going on here, Draco?” Severus demanded silkily, drawing Draco’s attention back to him.

Draco opened his mouth to answer, then shut it with a snap, took a deep breath and mumbled, “I brought Harry off.”

Severus turned his attention to Harry.  “Harry, you know you aren’t allowed to come without permission.”

Harry felt hot tears run out of his eyes and down his nose to drip off the end.  “Yes, Master.  Sorry, Master.”

“Sir,” Draco interrupted, “I didn’t give him much warning.  I just… thought it would be funny.  He seemed so intent on not coming.”

Severus gestured at Harry, who was trying not to cry.  “This is your idea of a good time?” He asked dryly.

Draco blushed, “I didn’t know it would … Look, I have been out for the last two weeks,” he said defensively, “When I went into my coma, Harry was a boy who acted out at the drop of the hat.  I come out of it and he’s trying to be a slave and telling me he hasn’t been allowed to come in a week.  I didn’t realize it was that important to him!”

Severus turned his attention to Harry.  “You knew you weren’t supposed to come.”

“Yes, Master.  I’m sorry, Master.”  A few more tears made their way past the end of Harry’s nose to land on the floor.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I was bathing Draco and got hard, Master.  I tried to hide it, but Draco saw it.  We had a discussion about me not being allowed to come and I told him it was important to me not to come, then he reached up and tugged a few times and I came, Sir.  I’m really sorry, Master.”  Harry was crying freely now.  _It’s not even that I’m afraid of being punished_ , he realized _, it’s that I really wanted to be a good slave.  I was doing so well and totally fucked up._   He tried to stop crying again. _‘Delicate’.  He’ll never let me be a slave now._

“I’ll strap you after breakfast,” Severus pronounced, his cold tone offset by the affectionate rub he gave Harry’s head.  “Draco, since you did this, you’ll share his punishment.”

“Yes, Master.  Thank you, Master,” Harry murmured.  At least it would be over quickly.

“Yes, Sir,” agreed Draco, looking suddenly pale.  He didn’t do well with strapping.

“Finish up, then call us to breakfast,” Severus said as he walked out, Maurus in tow.

Once they had shut the door behind them, Maurus asked, “Do you really think Draco can be strapped safely in his current state?”

Severus shook his head, “No, and I’m not strapping him.  I’m strapping Harry.  Draco loves Harry, and _his_ punishment is that he is going to watch at close quarters.”

Maurus hummed his agreement and nodded.  “I think,” he said hesitatingly, “Harry didn’t mean anything by it… I know I’m probably out of place speaking on this, but my sense is that Harry is trying very hard for you.”

Severus sighed, “Yes, I know.  And he’s doing a good job.  But he’s a slave still learning to be a slave.  He won’t like being strapped, but he’ll think I don’t care about him and his rules if I don’t.” Severus settled back onto the sofa, then added tightly, “I could strangle Draco right now.”

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Breakfast was a desultory affair.  Severus was stormy because he felt compelled to administer a punishment he had no appetite for.  Harry, kneeling next to Severus, was disappointed in himself for his lack of control.  Draco was confused, having fallen asleep in one relationship and woken up to a completely different dynamic.  Maurus spent breakfast watching the three men interact, trying to get the measure of Draco.

After breakfast, Maurus said his goodbyes and left Severus to his work.  The work room had been reassembled somewhat hastily, and it was there they went after seeing Maurus off.  Severus led the way into the room, striding over to the wall where the ropes were kept.  He took down several lengths of hemp rope and the strap.

 Harry, already naked except for his collar and cuffs, helped Draco across the threshold to a chair that had been placed near the door, then helped Draco out of his clothes.  Draco looked frankly terrified, and Harry wondered how he could tolerate any real punishment.  Once he had Draco undressed, Harry turned back around and knelt on the floor next to him to wait for Severus, who at that point was studying the gags.

Once he had selected his implements, Severus walked back toward the two boys.  He stood over Harry for a moment before ordering him to his feet.  Harry stood respectfully with his hands behind his back and his head down, anticipation and fear coiling in his stomach.  Severus let him stew for a moment longer before guiding him by the back of the neck toward the place where the support of the eye beam intersected the floor.  “Sit down, Harry.  Knees up,” Severus ordered brusquely, manipulating Harry into the desired position.  Harry allowed himself to be manipulated, docile under Severus firm handling.

Soon, Severus had Harry sitting on his ass, his legs extended at a 90 degree angle to each other, then bent at the knee at about 90 degrees.  He pulled Harry’s torso forward so that his left arm was parallel to his left leg and tied his ankle to his wrist.  He then tied his left elbow to his knee.  Finally, he repeated the same procedure on the other side.  Harry was effectively immobilized, and easily movable.  Next, Severus cast a featherlight charm on Draco, then maneuvered him so that he was sitting against the eyebeam support with his legs straight out in front of him.  Severus cast several lengths of rope around Draco’s chest and the support before tying it off.  Using a second length of rope, he cast several lengths of rope around Draco’s pelvis and around the support, again tying it off.  Next, he tied Draco’s legs together at the ankle and just below the knee directly in front of him.  “Can you hold your head up, or shall I tie that too?” Severus asked.

“I’ll hold it up, Sir,” Draco said, the tremor in his voice from fear rather than weakness.  He still wasn’t sure what Severus had in mind, but he felt rather helpless bound as he was.  He didn’t want to lose the ability to move his head, too.

Severus lifted Harry bodily and maneuvered him over to Draco, so that his bent legs were situated on either side of Draco’s body and his face was at the level of Draco’s upper chest.  Severus grabbed the back of Harry’s hair and pulled his head back until his face was perpendicular to the floor.  He then placed a cushioning charm under Harry’s bottom and thickened it until Harry was face to face with Draco, their noses only an inch apart.  Draco’s eyes widened as he understood what his punishment would be.  Severus pulled Draco’s arms around Harry’s lower back, tying them antiparallel. 

“Sir?  May I ask something?” Draco asked in his most deferential tone as Severus placed the final rope.  Draco didn’t beg.  Well, not often, anyway.

“Yes, Draco, what is it?”

“I… this was completely my fault.  I’m sorry, Severus.  Could I take Harry’s place?”

“No, Draco.  Harry knew he wasn’t supposed to cum, he’ll take his licks,” Severus said definitively.

“But, Severus,” Draco went on plaintively, “I feel very responsible for it.”

“No doubt.  That is why you are also being punished.”

“Sir… I’d rather be whipped than watch this.”

“Boys don’t get to chose their punishments, Draco.  Open your mouth.  The conversation is over.”  With a flourish, Severus pulled out a gag neither had seen before.  It had two black, 2-inch pecker gags mounted to a center plate, one facing toward Draco and the other away.  From the center plate came two parallel sets of straps.  Severus gently placed the first pecker gag into Draco’s mouth, then fastened the first set of straps around his head.  He then pushed Harry’s head forward onto the pecker gag that was now sticking out away from Draco’s mouth.  Harry opened his mouth to allow the gag to be placed, and moved his head around a little to get comfortable.  Severus then fastened the second set of straps to Harry’s head.

Draco had no choice but to look directly into Harry’s eyes.  He could see a thin rim of world around Harry’s head.  They were close enough to kiss, but were kept apart by the gag. Draco swallowed in a dry throat as Severus took up his position to Harry’s left, allowing the strap to dangle from his hand.  Draco looked up from the strap into Severus eyes, silently pleading with him not to do this.

Harry jumped as Severus dragged the leather across his back, then forced himself to relax.  The anxiety in Draco’s eyes kept him from relaxing into the punishment.  He had to stay strong for Draco, and he knew that every grimace and groan would tear at Draco’s heart.  Tears started slipping from Draco’s eyes before Severus even landed the first blow.  Harry tried to smile with his eyes reassuringly.

The first blow landed sharply across Harry’s back, knocking the wind out of him.  Harry closed his eyes tightly to hide his pain and bit down on the gag sharply to keep from crying out.  After the fifth blow, he couldn’t hold back any more and moaned, grunted, and screamed past the gag.  He kept his eyes closed for the most part, but when he opened them he saw the pain in Draco’s eyes and was glad he was the one being strapped.

A strap applied to the back is more painful than one applied to the ass, Draco recited to himself, remembering Severus’ lessons on the instrument.  It made a different sound, and men hit there made a different sound, too.  If he had been in a sadistic mood, he would have enjoyed watching Harry’s torment, listening to the sound of the strap as it landed and the sounds Harry made a split second later, watching the pain and vulnerability written on his face.  As it was, it was torture to watch and not be able to do or say anything to intervene.

Severus kept the punishment as short as it was brutal, only ten licks with just enough time in between for Harry to feel each blow and let go before the next fell.  Each blow was hard, though, delivered downward from standing to Harry’s tightly presented back below. 

After the tenth blow, Severus drew his nails across the welts, drawing a strangled groan from Harry.  Draco tried to shake his head, but that just pulled Harry’s head around uncomfortably, so he took a deep breath and forced himself to stay still.

Once Severus was done, he undid the gag and pulled it out from between his two boys, who promptly started kissing each other deeply.  Severus released Harry’s legs and arms, then, with Draco supported by a now kneeling Harry, untied the second boy from the support.  Finally, he moved the two boys to the bed, where they lay down together until Draco and then Harry fell asleep.


	21. Sharks Circle

Severus returned to the work room an hour later to find Draco and Harry laying together on the bed, their pale skin stark against the black leather cover, limbs entwined, and sweat gleaming.  Harry’s eyelids fluttered awake as Severus approached the bed.  Severus gestured him to get up, and Harry carefully disentangled himself from still-sleeping Draco.

“Hermione is going to be here in half an hour to review your case,” Severus said, “Go take a shower and get dressed.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.  Was she… is she one of the approved lawyers?”

“Yes.  I thought you two might work well together.”

Harry smiled and looked starry-eyed up at Severus for a moment, then looked down again when he remembered cumming without permission earlier.  _I tried so hard!_   “I’m sorry, Master, again for cumming.”

“It’s okay, Harry.  I expect this sort of thing to happen from time to time.  It doesn’t mean I won’t discipline you for it, but I know you’re trying very hard and don’t hold it against you.”

“Thank you, Master.”  Harry broke away to take his shower, feeling a bit better about the day.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

“I figured you had chosen someone else, Harry, when I didn’t hear anything from you!  Why did you wait so long?” Hermione scolded from her place on the sofa.

“I was just… overwhelmed.  They told me I could go to Azkaban for six months, and Draco was in a coma.  What if I had been in Azkaban when he died?”

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione chided, “Is _that_ what had you so upset?”

“You don’t think that’s upsetting?”

“I agree it’s upsetting,” Hermione conceded, “but a sentence in Azkaban would require a trial before the full Wizengamot.  Whatever enemies you’ve made in the Auror Corps are more than offset by your many friends and allies in the Wizengamot.  There is no way they would convict you.”

“So… why would they say something like that to me, Hermione?  I know this makes me sound like a complete sissy, but why do they hate me so much?”

Hermione shrugged, “You’re a very powerful wizard, Harry, and you did things before you even became an Auror that makes the most dramatic thing any of them can hope to do look like child’s play.  They are afraid of you, and so they’re trying to keep you cowed.  Think about it – by threatening you, they completely paralyzed you for an entire week.”

“You think they’re working with the neo Death Eaters?”

“Perhaps.  I don’t know.  When people feel threatened by an underling, they don’t need to be working for the bad guys to want to bring you down a few notches.”

Harry sighed and buried his face in his hands.  “So, this is what my career is going to be, year in, year out?”

Hermione gently laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder.  “It doesn’t have to be, Harry.  Have you thought about quitting the Aurors?  An organization like that doesn’t play to your strengths.”

“Just quit and run away?” Harry looked back up at her with a scowl.

“Not run away.  What about clerking for a member of the Wizengamot to learn the ropes, then making a political bid?  If it’s someone you respect, you’ll be able to work well for them.  That’s different from the Auror Corps where you’re expected to kowtow to anyone who outranks you.”

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, then smiled at Hermione.  “I guess I’ll think about that.  I just don’t want to leave under pressure.  What _can_ they realistically do to me, speaking of pressure.”

“There are pretty severe administrative punishments available, but they are all limited by your ability to resign and avoid punishment.  You would simply not be eligible to be rehired at that point.”

“Severe meaning what exactly?”

“Lets see,” Hermione opened a copy of the Standard Code for the Auror Corps.  “Whipping, not to exceed 39 lashes… although that hasn’t actually been inflicted on anyone since the fifteenth century; pillory, not to exceed 14 hours per day for 5 days per week for 3 months… hasn’t been done since the eighteenth century; confinement to holding cell, not to exceed 3 months; administrative leave, not to exceed six months; demotion.”  Hermione looked back up at Harry to judge his reaction.

“What’s the usual thing done for taking a medical record accidentally in the course of one’s work as an Auror?”

“That’s just it, Harry.  Usually absolutely nothing would be done.  Aurors are in many ways beyond reproach.  Even when they use very illegal methods, they are usually protected by the bureaucracy unless they are acting against an old or rich family.  I’m not saying it’s the way it should be, but the wizarding world has very little regard for human rights.”

Harry sighed.  “I guess since you’re my lawyer, I should tell you I did it.  Took the record, I mean.  It was an accident.  There was just so much going on.  But I don’t know how anyone ‘complained’ to Robards about it.  The baby’s mother was hit by the curse at the same time the baby was admitted to the hospital, so their story that she complained is bogus.  I personally tried to track down family for the baby and there wasn’t any.”

“Let me poke around and see what sort of punishment they have planned.  That will help you with your decision making as far as whether to resign or accept administrative punishment.  I’ll ask Ron if he can’t figure out where the complaint really originated.  Meanwhile, who knew that you took that baby’s report?”

“Severus, Maurus… the reinforcements you brought.  You and Ron.  Anyone who might have seen me grab it at Mungo’s, although it’s hard to believe anyone would have paid attention given the absolute chaos when it happened.”

“Any ideas as to who might have passed the information to Robards?”

“Obviously not Severus, you, or Ron.  I wouldn’t guess the reinforcements.  We’ve known them since we were kids.  Maurus?  He’s barely connected to the magical world, and the neo Death Eaters killed his partner.”  Harry shook his head.  None of them seemed likely.  “Anyway, what do you hear about the investigation as to how the potion is being distributed?”

“I haven’t heard much, other than that they are looking into it.  Personally, I worry that the Ministry itself is involved.  It’s hard to distribute a potion like that through the magical population of Britain without the Ministry picking up on it.  Based on our sample of the Mungo’s patients, it looks like 75 or 80 percent of the population is affected.  Assuming the attacks are random, we know that it is not an evenly distributed 75 to 80 percent.  Pureblood families, Slytherins, Voldemort supporters, and allies are spared.  That degree of penetration, combined with the selectivity, speaks to a large organization with significant resources and… for lack of a better term… loyalty.  It doesn’t help that we haven’t been able to capture a single informant.”

“Do you think they’re really looking into it?”

“Yes.  Ron says Jackson has been driving his team hard on that front, now that the attacks have stopped.”

“The attacks stopped?”

“Completely.  Pretty much as soon as your report hit Robards’ desk.”

“They knew right away?”

“Hard to tell exactly when, but even now the contents of your report aren’t exactly public knowledge.  There had been at least several attacks each day, usually just a five to ten people affected each day, but the day your report went in they stopped.”

Harry sighed.  Hermione’s idea about leaving the Auror Corps felt a lot like running away, but perhaps he could do more good in politics than as a not-so-anonymous Auror.  And spending months in a pillory sounded rather unappealing.  Being whipped, though?  He laughed to himself.  Nah, they’d probably do it in a way that wasn’t much fun.

“What are you smiling about?” Hermione queried.

“Oh, nothing.  My mind wandered.  So, what now, with regard to the whole possible disciplinary action?  And who do you think is looking for a clerk?  Not that I’m sure I want to do that, but… well, always nice to have a plan B.”

“I’ll try to figure out what they have planned if you are found guilty and see if we can’t make a deal – you admit to doing what you did, and they put you on leave or something for a few months, that kind of thing.  Meanwhile, don’t admit.  Never admit.”

“I’m won’t.  For one thing, Severus ordered me to take the week off to take care of Draco.”

“Ordered?”  Hermione raised both eyebrows, frank disapproval engraved on her face.

Harry paused.  Hermione wanted a discipline relationship with Ron so he didn’t understand why she would be judgmental about his relationship with Severus.  And for that matter, he had _told_ her that he had a discipline relationship with Severus and Draco after he walked in on Ron spanking Hermione.  He finally decided he was done being ashamed in front of his friends, locked eyes with Hermione, and said evenly, “Ordered.  If I recall, you were thinking about a discipline relationship with Ron, and you know I’m in a discipline relationship with Severus.  Why are you surprised by the fact that he ordered me to do something and I obeyed him?”

 Hermione was the first to break eye contact.  “I just don’t think it’s healthy that he controls your work, Harry.  I mean, it’s one thing to set some rules around the house like making your bed before you go out, but it’s another thing to have your partner controlling your livelihood.  It’s abusive.”

“No, Hermione, it’s not abusive,” Harry replied wearily.  “It’s a power dynamic that is more extreme than you would pick for yourself, but power is not the same as abuse.  In fact, vulnerability can be an invitation to protection.  I gave Severus a lot of power over me, but I’m a happier, more psychologically and spiritually healthy, and more effective man for it.  It’s the antithesis of abuse.”

Hermione didn’t look convinced but kept her peace.

Harry decided to try again.  “Look, this is something that is going to come up a lot if you plan on living this lifestyle as part of a community.  There’s a temptation to think that everyone who does something you wouldn’t do is fucked up sick.  And then there’s the temptation to think that anyone who’s less extreme than you are is totally vanilla.  So, there you are, alone, as the One True Practitioner of Kink.”

Hermione giggled as Harry mock-bowed to her as though she were the OTPK herself, then looked a bit pensive.  “So, what if you didn’t?  Obey, I mean.”

“Our dynamic is such that we could discuss it with the expectation that ultimately I’d defer to his judgement.  If I still didn’t obey, I’d be punished or we’d have to alter the terms of our relationship, possibly end the relationship entirely.”

“So, you always have the possibility to withdraw consent,” Hermione nodded, finally finding a link to something she had read.

“Right.”

“The submissive has all the power,” Hermione continued, echoing something she had read.

Harry stopped dead.  “I hate that phrase.”

“It’s what all the books say, though,” Hermione looked up, confused.

“Yes, but it’s not… it’s not the entire truth, at least in the kind of relationship I have with Severus.  I ceded power, and I can take it back, but between those two points I don’t have control.  If I try to maintain control, the dynamic can’t do for either of us what it was meant to do in the first place.  The whole ‘the submissive has all the power’ thing kinda screws up what we’re about.  I think it was formulated to make what we do more palatable to the vanilla crowd, you know?  A bid for acceptance.  The problem is, we shifted our own community expectations and now our larger community rejects the more intense power dynamics and SM because of a bunch of rules we made up to keep the vanillas off our backs.”

“But don’t you think giving Severus that degree of control is just avoiding responsibility?”

Harry huffed.  “No.  I’m still a competent adult, so I’m still responsible.  It’s _how_ I’m responsible that’s different.”

“This is different from what I read in the books.”

“True.  I’m a sexual deviant.  I’m _such_ a deviant that I even deviate from the orthodoxy of sexual deviancy!  Try that one on for size.”  Harry heated to his topic, now on a roll, “‘Thou shalt always have a safeword!  He who plays without a safeword, let him be anathema.  Thou shalt never really cede control!   He who states that he actually cedes control, let him be anathema.’  Well, here I am, not abused, not lessened at all by my relationship.  So, drop the orthodoxy and judge the tree by its fruit, or buzz off.”  He crossed his arms and turned slightly away from where Hermione sat on the sofa, scowling into middle distance.

Hermione thought for a moment.  “It’s just… different from what I’ve been reading.  Some of what I read was about differentiating between abuse and a consensual power dynamic, and what you’re describing – it sounds like it falls on the abuse end of the spectrum.  No safewords is a huge red flag!”

“A red flag doesn’t mean tried and convicted, Hermione.  It’s a flag.  And as my friend, it should cause you to look a little closer.  So, look closely – do I seem worse off to you than I did at the end of the war?”

Hermione remembered how Harry had turned in on himself after the war, wandering around in a fog.  She had filled out his application for Auror training for him once she realized he wasn’t able to pull himself together enough to do it on his own.  Hell, she had had to come over the morning of his interviews and _dress_ him.  He spent hours and hours wandering aimlessly about London.  He lost contact with his friends.  Then, after a few months, it all changed very suddenly.  Harry was smiling again, interacting with people at work, focusing on his training. At first, Harry hadn’t been forthcoming about what had changed, but the story came out when he decided to move in with Severus and Draco.

“You’re right, you are better off now than you were before Severus and Draco,” Hermione finally conceded.

“I appreciate your looking out for me.  I also need you to accept me for what I am.”

“And what’s that?”

“A submissive masochist in a power exchange relationship with two men.”

“I can accept that.  Doesn’t mean I’m not going to keep an eye on you, though.”

Harry smiled.  “I know, it’s just your way of caring.  But if you have a concern, talk to me about it.  Your books aren’t definitive, even if they are helpful places to start.”

“Will do, Harry.”

“So, since you’re in the lifestyle and I’ve decided I’ve had enough hiding from my friends…  I’ll be back in a minute.” 

Harry stood up and went to the bedroom, Hermione’s “Ah, sure, I’ll just wait here,” drifting after him, her tone startled at the sudden departure.

A few minutes later Harry emerged from the bedroom, and a sharp gasp emerged from Hermione’s throat.  “This is how I dress at home,” Harry commented calmly.  “I figure you’ll either deal with it or invite me out for coffee when you want to hang out.”

Hermione looked him over quickly from head to toe, eyes settling on his cock for a split second before she blushed deeply, then forced her eyes to Harry’s face.  “I’m not quite sure what to say.  Could you explain… ah… well… why you’re naked?”

“It’s my house uniform.  Orders.  Because I’m Severus’ boy and this is the way Severus wants me at home.  Obviously, exceptions for vanilla folk coming to visit, but you aren’t vanilla anymore.  And, like I said, I’m done hiding who I am from my friends.”

“I’ve read something about this sort of thing so … I don’t mind, I guess? Well, I don’t quite know where to rest my eyes.”

“It’ll get more comfortable with time.  Or, again, you can invite me out for coffee next time you want to hang out.”

Hermione smiled at him, still staring fixedly at his face.  Both of them startled, however, when Severus’ silky voice emerged from a doorway.  “Harry, where are your clothes?”

Harry awkwardly stood up and turned to Severus, who had one eyebrow raised.  _Well, in for a dime, in for a dollar_.  He dropped to his knees and crossed his arms behind his back, causing Hermione to gasp and Severus’ other eyebrow to rise.  “You had decided, Master, that I would wear my house uniform when we were alone or if our visitor was in the lifestyle.  Hermione and Ron are in the lifestyle.”  Harry felt his face flush and wondered if his blush was as incandescent as it felt.

Severus took a moment to recover, then said dryly, “I didn’t know you were in the lifestyle, Ms. Granger,” nodded, and sat down in a wingback chair. 

“Well… ah… we’re new to the … ah… lifestyle,” Hermione stuttered.

Severus smiled warmly.  “Everyone starts somewhere.”  He turned his attention to Harry, “Go and get some tea and cookies.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master,” Harry intoned, glad for an excuse to get away.  He was sure he would be glad he had ripped off the bandage later, but right now he was a bit shaken.  At least Severus had played along once he had gotten over his surprise.

Once Harry left, Severus turned scrutinizing eyes to Hermione, who held his gaze for several long seconds before dropping hers.  “I would not have recommended Harry wear his house uniform in front of you as a newcomer to the lifestyle,” He stated levelly, “However, I defer to his judgement on how much he wants to share with his friends.  I need you to understand, though, that he has trusted you with a very delicate and private part of himself, and if you treat it anything less than the priceless gift it is I will cruciate you until you don’t know your own name.”  This last threat was delivered in the same calm tone as the rest, all the more terrifying for the absolute absence of emotion.

“I understand,” Hermione replied with only a slight tremble to her voice.  She had no doubt that Snape would do it.  Harry was lucky to have such a formidable protector.

“Good,” Severus said, warmth returning to his tone.  “What sort of danger is Harry really in from the ministry?” 

Hermione spent the next several minutes filling Severus in on the type of punishments Harry realistically faced, reassuring him that there was no real possibility of Azkaban and that the harsher punishments were very unlikely.  She also pointed out that Harry could avoid any administrative punishment levied by simply resigning his position.  “He might do better in politics, anyway,” Hermione added as an afterthought, “I told him we could look into finding him a position as a clerk for a member of the Wizengamot so that he could learn the ropes.  He has a number of allies there who would love to have him.”

“That’s an interesting possibility.  What makes you think he’d do well in politics?  He isn’t really all that political.”

“True, but he can bring people to his side easily because of who he is.  In the Auror Corps, he’s constantly banging his head against the wall trying to keep a bunch of mediocre mid-level bureaucrats off his back.  And those mediocre mid-level bureaucrats are out for blood.”

“Too true.”

Hermione and Severus sat in uncomfortable silence for several long moments before Hermione started to speak, blushing a little as she did so.  “Harry mentioned you are good with a flogger,” she blurted.

Severus gave an amused smile.  “Indeed, Ms. Granger.”

“Would you… would you consider… would you consider flogging me?” Hermione stuttered, while looking down fixedly at her hands in her lap.

“In general terms, I’d be happy to.  How would your husband feel about someone beating his wife?”

Hermione cleared her throat and looked quickly up at Severus then back down at her hands.  “I haven’t asked him.  I… if it’s a possibility, of course I would ask him before we did anything.”

“It’s possible, and only one of a few possibilities.  I can flog you with him here.  I can flog you with him absent.  And I can teach him to flog you himself, either with you as the bottom once he is ready, or with Harry as the bottom before you.  Which do you think he would prefer?”

“I’m not sure.  I’ll ask him.  Thank you for even considering it!”

“Of course.  Once you have your husband on board, we can negotiate the details.”

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Two days later, the floo alarmed as Harry was making tea.  He quickly threw on a robe and opened it, to find Hermione’s face in the fire.  “Harry, can Ron and I come through?  I have some information.”

“Of course.  Um…. Does he know what to expect?  Regarding my house uniform, or should I dress the rest of the way?  I’m sorry I sprung it on you like that, I realize in retrospect I should have discussed it with you first.”

“It’s okay, Harry.  I had the sense you got carried away by the momentum of your argument.  I know you didn’t mean anything by it.  I warned Ron and he’s prepared for it.  Shall we come through?”

“Please.”  Harry stepped away from the fire and pulled his robe off over his head, returning it to its hook near the floo.  A moment later, first Hermione and then Ron stepped out.  As they greeted each other, Harry surreptitiously watched Ron give him a furtive  once over before forcing his glance to Harry’s face.

“Hello, Mate!” Ron said with a bit of a forced garrulity, even slapping Harry somewhat awkwardly on the back.

“Hey.  How’s the DMLE treating you?” Harry smiled back.

“Good.  Jackson’s tracking down the source of the potion, even has some leads.”

“Awesome.  Oh, Hermione, Ron, why don’t you sit down.  I was just making tea, would you care for some?”

“That’d be lovely, Harry, assuming we’re not imposing?” Hermione answered politely for both.

“Not at all, I’ll go get it.  Do you mind if Severus joins us?”

“Might be best, mate,” Ron said seriously, “Help you keep track of things.  We don’t have good news.”

Harry paled, but nodded once before disappearing again into the kitchen to fetch the tea.  Severus entered his quarters through the door and started to see Hermione and Ron on the sofa, but after recovering from his initial surprise greeted them and sat down in his chair.

Harry finally emerged from the kitchen with the tea service and served everyone before sitting casually at Severus’ feet.  Ron’s eyes widened then narrowed when Harry settled into his position.  Harry returned his gaze levelly until Ron, realizing that this was just the way it was, relaxed back and resumed his prior good temper.  Severus, having watched the unspoken interaction, leaned down to Harry’s ear and whispered heatedly, “Just because you’ve decided to come out doesn’t mean you have to throw it in their face.  They are going out of their way to demonstrate their acceptance, sit your ass in a chair to make our guests comfortable.”

Harry hastily got up and sat in the chair opposite Severus.  “You said you had bad news?” He asked, taking a sip of tea and trying to appear nonchalant. 

“Unfortunately, yes,” Hermione began.  “They want to have you whipped.”

Harry’s eyes widened.  “I thought you said they haven’t done that in centuries?”

Ron piped up, “They haven’t, but they want to make an example of you.  They’re saying it’s to make it clear to everyone that the Auror Corps no longer supports underhanded methods no matter how successful they might have been in this case, but I think they’re trying to get people to back off on the neo Death Eater investigation.  Anyway, they want something dramatic and it’s hard to get more dramatic than a public whipping.”

“Again, Harry, all you need to do is resign.  Severus, will you talk to him?”

“Harry,” Severus spoke up, “I want you to write a letter of resignation.”

“But I don’t want to resign!” Harry objected forcefully.

“Nonetheless, I want you to write the letter.  Go get Draco, he should hear this,” Severus ordered heatedly.  They wanted to _whip_ his boy!

“Wait!” Hermione countermanded loudly.  Then repeated softly, “Wait.  There’s more you should know before you go get Draco.”  Hermione took a deep breath, then looked between Severus and Harry, who waited anxiously for her to continue.  “Has Draco mentioned anything about a new baby sister?”

“WHAT?” The two men erupted simultaneously.

“True, mate,” Ron confirmed.  “turns out the ‘mother’ who made the complaint about the baby’s medical record being walked off with is none other than Narcissa Malfoy, who, in the absence of surviving family, has adopted the child.  Pureblood child, I should mention, and not just any pureblood child, but the pureblooded child of Cecilia and Harold Abbot.  Harold died during the war against Voldemort, and Cecilia died soon after you saw her at Mungo’s.  All other family have been struck by the curse over the last few months.  But before Cecilia died she was the Secretary General of the Society for Pureblood Reparations.”

“Blood traitors,” muttered Severus, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Whose child is now going to be raised by neo Death Eater sympathizers,” Hermione picked up the thread,  “So I had Parvati look for that pattern – the pureblooded children of blood traitors being adopted by pureblood families with known sympathies to Voldemort or the neo Death Eater cause, and there have been a slew of them.  No one noticed in the chaos and random targets.”

Harry buried his face in his hands.  “See, this is why I need to stay in the Auror Corps.  _I_ should have been involved in that investigation, looking for patters like that.”

Hermione and Ron stilled, both looking at Harry before looking at each other.  Finally, Hermione spoke up.  “Harry, it’s not some Safe, Sane, Consensual whipping they’re planning.  People have died after being whipped this way.  They can break your ribs and tear the flesh from your bones.”

“Yeah, mate.  These people want to fuck you up so badly no one else dares look their direction again,” Ron added.

Harry gave both of them a gelid glare before all three turned their attention to Severus.

“Who picks the person wielding the whip?” Severus asked Hermione.

“That’s part of the problem.  Since this hasn’t been done for centuries, there really aren’t a lot of people who know how to handle a six foot single tail whip, which is what we’re talking about.  Ernest Hawkworth is the member of the Wizengamot assigned to appoint executioners, and it would be someone from that pool who would whip Harry.  I overheard him telling another member of the Wizengamot that they were considering importing someone from Australia to do the deed.”

“Harry, get Draco.  I believe he is in the Magical Library in London doing his research,” Severus ordered.

Harry nodded, leaving off the more formal affirmation in deference to Ron and Hermione, and dressed before heading out.

“Harry will need to be kept in the dark about this plan,” Severus began, “As his responses must be absolutely authentic if we are to succeed.”

Hermione and Ron leaned in.

“Hawkworth has a weakness for underage men, and I have some compromising photographs of him taken during my Death Eater days.  It should be easy to persuade him to pick an ally to wield the whip.  The trick is making it appear that Harry has been punished while making sure he is unharmed.”

“You have someone in mind?” Ron asked hopefully.

“In fact, I do,” Severus smiled.

“You really think Harry can tolerate being whipped?  It’ll have to look real, you know,” Hermione shrilled.

“Harry is a heavy masochist.  I have no doubt that he can tolerate a whipping, and a whipping severe enough to cut and scar, if he is warmed up first,” Severus explained.

“But he can’t very well go in there with his back already warmed up!” Hermione argued.

“True.  But we can select a member of the Muggle SM community who can warm him up and then whip him severely without damaging him beyond some scars.  Of course, when he starts slapping Harry, Hermione you will object loudly that the slaps should count to the 39.  Hawkworth, who we will ask to be present, will be told to override your objection.  No one who doesn’t know about how whipping is done in our context will recognize that our whip top is doing Harry a favor with the extra blows.  To everyone else it will look like he is drawing out the… entertainment.”

“Speaking of entertainment,” Hermione continued, “I should warn you that this punishment is intended to be as humiliating as possible.  Harry will be naked, aside from whatever the whip top needs him to wear to restrain him properly.  There will be a crowd, likely dominated by his enemies.  He is, however, allowed a supporter.  I thought you would fill the role.  If it was too much, you could resign for Harry at any point during the whipping.”

“How close can I be to him?” Severus asked.

“As close as you can get without being in the way of the whipping,” Ron answered gravely.


	22. In the Hand of My Enemies

“This isn’t the sort of thing you just get over, Severus!” Draco argued.  “They killed off another family to adopt their child because, as my mother put it, I wasn’t planning on carrying on the family line.”

“Draco,” Severus replied in the manner of a man who had said the same thing a hundred times, “There is nothing you can do about it.  Your parents disapprove of the lifestyle we lead.”

“You mean they hate me because I’m gay,” Draco muttered mutinously.

“They don’t hate you because you’re gay.  They have no use for you because, gay or straight, you don’t plan on marrying a girl and procreating.  There are gay men who do that, you know.”

“It’s just disgusting.  It’s an awful thing to do to the woman, if nothing else.  And I’m not sure I’d even be capable of completing… you know.”

“Again, your choice.  I’m not saying I disagree with your choice, but you can’t pretend like this was something done to you.  You are gay, and you decided not to live as a gay man married to a woman.  Your family is doing what pureblood families have done for centuries…”

“Killing off another pureblood line?”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.  “No, not that part.”

“Putting their son into a coma?”

Severus buried his face in his hands for a moment.  “We’ve been through this.  There is no reason to suspect….”

“There is every reason to suspect!” Draco roared, spittle flying from his mouth as he stood to scowl down at Severus.  Harry stared wide-eyed from his place on the floor as Severus smoothly rose to standing, then stepped forward into Draco’s personal space.  Draco had no choice but to tip his head back to look up at Severus, who glowered back at him.

“When you are ready, follow me into the study,” Severus muttered as he turned and stepped out of the living room. 

Draco’s already pale face went a few shades paler as he stared after Severus for a moment, then ran his fingers through his hair.  “I went too far, didn’t I?”.

Harry nodded.  “He just won’t listen to me on this,” Draco sighed, “They put me in a coma, and they were going to put you in a coma, too – why else would you have been maneuvered to Diagon Alley on the day of the attack.  He wants to think my father wouldn’t do it, but he would have all three of us tortured and killed if it would benefit him in any way whatsoever.”

Harry held his peace for a moment, then spoke with his eyes lowered.  “Draco… it does sound a bit paranoid.  Can’t you see that?  You think your parents had an entire family wiped out in order to adopt your replacement, then tried to kill you and me off because… why?”

“Because he _hates_ us.  Me because I betrayed everything he stands for, you because you killed the Dark Lord.  And it’s a great way to torture Severus, too – he’d have to watch the two of us die.  Who knows, maybe my father planned to kill him off after he killed the two of us.  It only sounds paranoid because you two don’t understand how far my father is willing to go to avenge himself and the Dark Lord.  Severus and you don’t see him ever.  I see him every time I go to the Manor.  I _know_ he is behind this.”

Harry kept his eyes lowered and didn’t say anything.  Finally, Draco sighed deeply once again, turned, and trudged off to the study. 

He paused a moment at the door before taking a step in and closing the door behind him.  Severus was sitting near the small fireplace in his office, leaning back in a comfortable leather chair.  He stared into the fire, the light flickering across his stern features in the dim room.  He didn’t look up at Draco when the door clicked shut behind him.

Draco slowly crept toward the circle of light formed by the fire, eventually drawing to a halt at its edge.  Severus seemed to be waiting for him to commit.  After a few long moments, Draco forced his shoulders back and his head up, adopting the aristocratic posture that had been drilled into him by a long line of handlers – nannies, governesses, and finally his mother and father.  He stepped up to Severus’ knees, fixing his eyes on the far side of the room over Severus’ shoulder. 

“You were saying?” Severus asked in his silky baritone, leaning back comfortably in his chair to look up at Draco.

Draco blinked but recovered himself quickly.  “I… I think my father is behind this, Severus,” the words came out in a rush, “I know Harry thinks I’m paranoid, and I’m pretty sure you think the same.  But you two don’t understand my father.  Maybe you understand him, Severus, but you’ve forgotten just what a vindictive son of a bitch he can be!  You haven’t seen him face to face for years.  I see him every time I go to the Manor.” 

Severus pulled Draco in closer so that he was standing between his knees and studied his face.  “I will see him when Harry goes to get whipped.”

Draco’s eyes widened.  “You aren’t really going to let them whip him, are you?  Severus, this isn’t a nice negotiated whipping with a friendly top!  They are going to try to maim him!”

“I will accompany Harry and resign for him if it appears he will be damaged.”

Draco gave Severus a mutinous look.

“Draco, this conversation is over.  It is my job, not yours, to protect Harry.”  Draco stiffened back into his aristocratic posture and gazed back to the far side of the room again, his expression shuttered.  “Watch your attitude in the future.  It won’t do to argue in front of Harry.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You may go.”

Draco hesitated.  “Sir?  May I say something?”

“Yes?”

“I’m not a China doll,” Draco stated definitively.  Severus pursed his lips slightly but said nothing.  “I’m not delicate.  I know I was sick, but you haven’t touched me since I came out of my coma!”

Severus smirked up at him.  “And just how do you need to be touched, boy?”

Draco looked down at his feet and blushed.

“As attractive as you are when you blush, Draco, I need you to use your words.”

“I… I need to be spanked, sir, for… for my attitude earlier and… f-fucked, sir,” Draco stuttered, then took a deep breath once he got it out.

“Sir?”

Draco’s blush deepened, and Severus’ smirk broadened in answer.  “Daddy, would you please spank me and fuck me?” Draco amended, still standing straight but the aristocratic reserve long since dissipated, his face now open and vulnerable.

“Strip, boy, and get down here over my knee where you belong.”  Severus patted his left thigh invitingly.  Draco stripped slowly, a bit self-conscious of the effect his illness had had on his form.  He folded his clothes neatly and laid them on a side table, then hesitated before coming over.  “Something on your mind, Draco?” Severus queried.

“I just wish I was tough like Harry, you know?  He takes a beating so much better than I can, and I know you enjoy it…” Draco trailed off again, suddenly ashamed.

Severus chuckled, “Sometimes it’s nice not to have to work as hard as Harry makes me work for a response, Draco.  You two fill different places in my life.  Harry’s going to be my slave.  You’ll always be my boy.  Now get over here.”

Draco walked over and stopped between Severus’ long, outstretched legs. 

“Why aren’t you hard?” Severus demanded.

“I don’t know, Daddy.”

“Give me your right hand, boy,” Severus ordered, then took the offered hand, turned it palm up, and spat in it.  “Get yourself hard.  Get all those nasty competitive thoughts out of your head and focus on being hot for Daddy.”

Draco stroked himself using Severus’ spit for lube, rapidly hardening under Severus’ scrutiny. 

“Good boy,” Severus crooned.  Draco stopped once he was hard and let his hand fall to his side.  “Over my knee, boy.”  Draco adopted the awkward position.  “Legs further apart,” Severus ordered.  Draco adjusted his feet.  Severus rubbed his hand over Draco’s ass.  The skin there was so pale as to be nearly translucent, and he had lost a lot of muscle from his illness.  _No matter_ , Severus thought, _He’ll get it back_.  He raised his hand and started spanking, at first slow and no harder than a firm slap on the back.  He alternated back and forth between the globes, watching the skin slowly turn pink.  He brought up the intensity so gradually as to be nearly imperceptible to the soon squirming man on the bottom.  It was only after several minutes that Draco started to moan and pant.

“Gotta get you nice and warm, boy, huh?  Daddy shouldn’t have to fuck a cold ass, should he?” Severus demanded.

Draco looked back up over his shoulder and moaned out breathlessly, “No, Daddy.”

Severus spanked even harder.  “What was that, boy?”

Draco repeated, louder this time, “No, Daddy.  You shouldn’t have to fuck a cold ass.”

“Good boy.  And you need your ass fucked, don’t you?” Severus asked as he spanked harder and faster.

“Yes, Daddy.  Please fuck me.  Ouch!  Daddy!  It hurts!”

“It’s meant to hurt, boy.  You mouthed off to daddy and you’re getting spanked for it,” Severus scowled down at Draco, but his lips twitched slightly at the corner, and he brought down the intensity of the spanking a bit.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you, Daddy.  Please stop!  I learned my lesson!  I promise!”  Draco wailed.

Severus quickly ramped down, and when Draco looked back over his shoulder again, Severus was smirking down at him.  “Over the ottoman, Draco,” Severus ordered as he picked up some lube from a drawer in the side table.  Draco assumed the position, and Severus knelt behind him, a thick rug padding his knees.  “Open up for Daddy,” Severus said as he circled his lubed finger around Draco’s pucker, drawing a low moan from Draco as he pushed his hot, red ass up toward Severus’ hand.  Severus slowly pushed his finger in, feeling the two rings of muscle contract then relax at the intrusion.  “Good boy.”  Severus fucked Draco with his finger for a minute, tapping on his prostate from time to time, then adding a second finger.  Draco moaned again, and Severus waited for him to relax \ before scissoring gently and finger-fucking him some more.  Draco started to thrust into the ottoman, and a thin sheen of sweat appeared on his back.  “Are you gonna come just from Daddy fingering you, boy?” Severus laughed. 

Draco forced himself to stop rubbing against the ottoman, “No, Daddy.  Sorry.”

“It’s okay, boy.  Sometimes slutty boys come just from being fingered.  I don’t fuck slutty boys, though.  Are you a slutty boy, Draco?”

“No, Daddy.  I’m your good boy.”  Draco forced himself not to thrust against the ottoman despite the insistent urging of Severus fingers in his ass. 

“That’s right.  Such a good boy.”  Severus added a third finger, drawing another moan from Draco.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,”  Draco begged.  He was worried he was going to come and not get fucked after all.

“Since you asked so nicely.”  Severus took his fingers out and lined his cock up with Draco’s waiting hole, then thrust slowly in, giving Draco a chance to adjust to his girth before fucking him slowly.

Neither man was going to last long and within minutes Draco came, the spasming of his hole pulling Severus along after him.  After a few breaths, Severus pulled Draco down onto the carpet next to the fire, and they spooned until Draco fell asleep.  Severus lay awake next to him for a long while, mulling over Lucius Malfoy, their new daughter, and Draco’s accusations.  Finally he forced his whirring mind to stop, knowing that he would most likely know soon whether it was true or not.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

“I’m scared, Severus.”

It was early morning.  Severus and Harry were waiting in a holding cell deep in the bowels of the Ministry awaiting the executioner.  In his pocket, Severus had Harry’s letter of resignation, ready to turn in if at any point the whipping went too far.  In his arms, he held Harry, who was smartly dressed in his Auror uniform, perhaps for the last time, his face ashen under the institutional lights.  Severus wished he could tell Harry it would be okay, about the plans he had laid behind the scenes to keep him safe, but he knew he needed Harry to look as frightened as he, in fact, felt. 

A key clinked in the lock and the door opened.  Hermione, accompanied by Lucius Malfoy, two Unspeakables Harry didn’t know, and a hooded executioner, stood in the open door.  “You need to strip down, Harry,” Hermione said gently.  Harry’s eyes flashed to the faces gathered above him.

“The executioner can strip you down if you prefer, Potter,” Malfoy sneered.  “I know you’re into that sort of thing.”  The look on his face was one of absolute and total hatred.

Severus, with long years practice in taking the measure of a man in an instant, knew in a heartbeat that Malfoy would do anything he could to harm and kill Harry.  Then Lucius turned his cold eyes to Severus, and Severus saw written in them pain and death if he were ever in Lucius’ power.

Harry rose on shaky legs, turned his back to the assembly, and started to unbutton his robe.  It took a while, his sweaty fingers slipping off the slick buttons, but soon he stood stripped to his underwear and he turned back around, shoulders tense and eyes on the floor.

“Your, ah, underwear also, Harry.  It’s the rules,” Hermione’s voice faltered.

“Yes, Potter.  Let’s see what my son abandoned his duties and family honor for,” Lucius added in a voice like flint, staring pointedly at the thin fabric which was his only remaining protection.

Harry paused, took a deep breath and, blushing, pulled down his briefs.  His cock had no interest in the proceedings.  Leaving his uniform on the floor, he took a few steps forward at a gesture from the hooded man, seeing him as though for the first time. 

There was something familiar about him.  He was tall, wearing black leather chaps over Levis.  His Wesco Boss boots, well-broken-in but well-maintained, hugged his calves.  _Must be custom_ , Harry thought to himself irrelevantly as his eyes wandered back up the leathered legs to linger for a moment over the respectable bulge at his groin, then further up over the leather shirt which clung his chest, noting on the way the fat pad signifying the beginning of a pot.  His gauntleted hands hung loosely at his sides, and a leather hood covered his head and the upper part of his face, leaving only his intelligent eyes, mouth and jaw exposed.  There was no way he knew any of the executioners… but something about him…

It was gentle, the first touch of the leather glove against Harry’s arm, the kind of touch one uses with a frightened animal that might bolt.  Before he knew it, though, Harry’s hands were manacled behind him.  He made no move to resist the man as he wordlessly placed shackles on his ankles and linked them with a chain too short to allow a comfortable stride.  Once the restraints were placed, the executioner took hold of Harry’s upper arm.

Lucius led his way out of the cell, his brisk gait matched by Hermione and the two Unspeakables.  Harry’s short chain forced an awkward shuffle.  The hooded man made no attempt to rush him, his hand on Harry’s arm there to steady rather than force.  Severus walked slowly behind them.  By the time the three men reached the gymnasium selected for the whipping, Lucius was sitting behind a table with Narcissa and the baby, as well as the several members of the Wizengamot who had decided to come.  Hermione stood, lips pressed together, in front of the table.  Severus noted that Hawkworth sat in the middle of the table, apparently presiding over the event.  Across the gym, on bleachers hastily erected for the purpose, sat a mixed crowd consisting of various Ministry employees, several reporters, and members of the general public.  Draco sat in the front row. 

Severus scrutinized Lucius and Narcissa as the executioner maneuvered Harry to an A-frame that had been set up in the center of the room.  They were positively gleeful when Harry stumbled, his knees weak from fear.  The hooded man wordlessly steadied Harry, his hand having never left Harry’s arm.  Once the excitement over that piece of drama had passed, Severus watched as Lucius’ eyes fell on Draco, recognizing him for the first time in the crowd.  The look of one achieving vengeance flashed across his face momentarily before it was replaced by the usual aristocratic sneer.  The moment was all that was required for the old spy to know what he wanted to know – Lucius had tried to kill his boys.  Severus grimly turned his attention back to Harry, grateful that, for all his many faults, he was not a ‘good guy’.  No, he would have his vengeance.

The executioner placed cuffs designed for suspension on Harry’s wrists.  It was an odd bit of gentleness, Harry thought, to carefully strap on these well-made cuffs before maiming him with a whip.  And he was under no illusion – his enemies had not gathered to leave him whole.  The suspension cuffs were hooked with a panic snap to the crossbar of the A-frame, pulling Harry to a 30 degree angle.  A cushioning charm protected the front of his body from contact with the hard wood.  His feet were placed shoulder width apart on a small but sturdy platform, and his ankles attached to a beam there with a pair of leather cuffs.  Finally, the executioner placed a kidney belt with D-rings on each side, which he attached tightly to the A frame.  “To keep you from jumping, kid, and fucking up my aim.”  It was the first time the hooded man had spoken, and Harry jumped.  He was sure he recognized that voice.

Severus pulled on a pair of elbow length black leather gauntlets, a leather jacket, and chaps before standing in the center of the A frame, where he could hold Harry’s head to comfort him.  Once he was in position, he leaned towards Harry’s ear and whispered, “There is no danger here, Harry.  I had to make you think so because you needed to fool everyone.  Maurus is behind the whip.  He’s going to hurt you, make you bleed, scar you, but he won’t harm you.  Just relax into it and we’ll take you where you need to go.  No words, Harry.  All the noise you need, but no words.  Soon you won’t be able to speak coherently, and there’s safety in that.”

Harry nodded his understanding, and let his head fall against Severus shoulder.  He was already crying.  He wasn’t sure whether it was fear or relief anymore, but he didn’t want anyone to see his tears.

Harry jumped when he felt Maurus’ leathered hand stroke firmly over his back, squeezing a bit to bring the blood up to the surface.  Then Maurus started slapping methodically up and down both sides of his back, avoiding the spine and stopping above the kidney belt.

“Stop!” Hermione’s voice rang out shrill over murmur of the crowd.  “I object.  Those blows should count to the total number of lashes!”

Maurus stopped and glanced back at the table, appearing surprised at the interruption.  Hawkworth spoke up, his voice reedy, “Those are not lashes.  The lashes ordered under the terms of the punishment are those of a single tail whip, which are indeed limited to 39.  However, there is no limitation to what the executioner does before those 39 lashes are delivered.”  Lucius smiled exuberantly at Hawkworth’s side.  Maurus grinned wolfishly.

“But that is absurd!” Hermione gasped, “You mean to say that this… executioner has free play to do _whatever_ he wants, other than a single tail whip, for as long as he wants as long as he wraps up the whipping after 39 lashes?  This is a miscarriage of justice!”

“Quiet, Ms. Granger.  I have spoken on the matter.  Let the man do his work.” Hawkworth gestured impatiently for Maurus to continue.

Maurus returned to slapping up a blush over Harry’s back, continuing until the skin began to thicken imperceptibly.  Harry set his jaw and bore it with stoicism, but the mysterious alchemy that transmuted pain to pleasure was absent.  It _hurt_.  Finally Maurus picked up a flogger and…

“You have got to be kidding me!  That is a whip!” Hermione shrilled dramatically.

Hawkworth squirmed slightly in his chair.  Surely this was indefensible?  But Severus had told him nothing was to count but the single tail.  “Ms. Granger, if you continue to speak out of order I will have to have you removed.  _Only_ lashes with a single tail are to count toward the 39 lashes.  Continue, executioner.”

Maurus had waited while they finished their exchange, but quickly turned back to Harry once they were done.  He started as gently as he could with the flogger, but even from the start Harry’s muscles stayed tense between blows.  As he brought up the intensity, Harry started to pull down on the wrist restraints as though he were trying to climb the frame, but he bent his knees at the same time.  Finally, Maurus saw the thickened skin begin to weep a little and decided, good feelings or not, he needed to get on to the whip.

He picked up the six foot signal whip that the Ministry wizard had cursed especially for the punishment.  The magic on the whip would prevent any sort of magical healing.  Harry might as well be a Muggle as far as this whipping would go.  He walked toward Harry and touched the coiled whip to his back.  “Quickly, Maurus,” Severus whispered.  Maurus stepped back and glanced around to make sure no one was in range of the whip.  Severus held Harry’s head tightly against his shoulder, one gauntleted hand on either side, and Harry tensed as he waited for the first lash.  “Breathe, Harry.  You don’t want to pass out.”  Harry forced himself to take a deep breath, and just as he had breathed all the air out he heard the crack of the whip and then burning that felt like liquid iron being poured in a line across his upper left back.  He would have screamed had their been air in his lungs.  He took single gasping breath before the next blow fell, this one on the right, and screamed as it landed.

Maurus applied the required strokes methodically and quickly, forcing himself to block out the sound of Harry screaming.  There was no way he could ignore the uncoordinated, nonsensical movements Harry made in his effort to escape.  He pulled up on the suspension cuffs on his wrists at the same time he jerked his legs away from the frame, then pulled one down at the same time he pushed the other up.  Maurus had cut deeply with the first two lashes, causing blood to drip down his back.  The other lashes were shallower, but blood still flew everywhere.  It was as dramatic as he could make it while doing as little harm as he could.  Maurus was sure the first two cuts would scar, but hoped that most of the rest wouldn’t.

Out of the corner of his eye, Maurus could see the numbers floating in midair to kept an accurate count.  When it finally hit 39, he stopped and coiled the whip in his hand.  He nodded crisply to the wizards at the high table, then turned and strode out of the room like a well-trained soldier.  He turned left, went into the lav, and emptied his stomach into the nearest toilet.  He had whipped men before, but this was the first time he had tortured one.  He was lost in his own world as he dry heaved for several minutes.  Cool hands pulled him up, finally, and Draco held a bottle of cold water to his lips, sitting with him in the corner of that grimy ministry bathroom until he recovered enough to get home.


	23. Revenge, and an Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of my first ever fanfiction. Actually, my first ever... well, anything fiction. I certainly wasn't expecting to write something this long as I labored over the one shot that spawned this. Thanks to all of you who have supported me through kudos, but most especially those of you who left comments and criticism.

Harry heard someone groaning as he slowly emerged from the fog that had enveloped him when he passed out in Severus’ arms on the way home from the Ministry.  _Shut up!_ He thought loudly at whomever was making the infernal noise.  _I’m trying to sleep here!_  

The groaning continued.  Harry was further annoyed into wakefulness by the wet slick against his cheek.  _Must have drooled in my sleep_.  He lifted his head up and opened his eyes.  He had only a split second to process a figure sitting at his bedside in the dim light before searing pain ripped through his back, and the groaning became an insistent whine.  Only then did he realize the groaning had been coming from his own lips.

“Awake?” Severus’ voice battered against his ears, causing Harry to dig his head further into the pillow.

“I wish I wasn’t, Master.”  Harry’s voice was hoarse.

“Not ‘Master’ now, Harry.  Your week is up.”

Harry sighed deeply, biting his dry and cracked lip at the pain which blossomed as his skin stretched.  _No more deep breaths._   “I wish you … please don’t, sir,” He begged.

“Open your eyes, Harry,” Severus ordered gently.  Harry’s eyes popped open.  He held them open even though the light felt like it was stabbing into the dark recesses of his brain.  “Don’t what, Harry?”

“Please don’t pretend I’m not already your slave.”

Severus scrutinized Harry’s face for a long while.  Harry dropped his gaze but kept his eyes open.  “You knew it was only for a week, Harry.”

“The letter in your pocket says different.”  Harry let his head relax back into the pillow but kept his eyes open. 

Severus reached into his pocket and pulled out the only letter he found there.  It was Harry’s letter of resignation from the Auror Corps.  “How so?”

“You control me.  I gave you, and you accepted, control of my sex life.  I gave you, and you accepted, control of my body.  I gave you, and you accepted, control over my career.  Is anything missing before you control me completely?  You can have that, too.  I can’t pretend this is a game right now, Severus.  I’ll obey you.  But please…”  Harry’s voice rose, frankly begging.

“Yes?”

“Please let me close my eyes.  I have a headache.”

“Close your eyes, whelp.  Go back to sleep.  We’ll formalize things once you’re recovered.”  Severus ruffled his hair affectionately as he stood to go.

“Yes, Master.  Thank you, Mas…”  Harry was asleep before he got the last word out.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

When Harry woke again, it was morning.  Maurus and Draco were sitting at his bedside speaking in whispers and drinking their tea.

Draco was the first to notice Harry stirring, “Looks like Sleeping Beauty has awoken.”

Maurus looked over, the small smile disappearing from his lips as he turned.  “Are you okay, Harry?”

Harry smiled, “I’m okay, Maurus.  Thank you for… well, keeping my enemies away from me.”  He turned his head a little to meet Maurus’ eyes but made no attempt to rise from his prone position.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive myself for that whipping, Harry.  It was awful.  I tried to warm you up, but while it thickened your skin, you were clearly feeling everything.  So… I got it over with as quickly as I could.  I hope it was the right thing.  I knew there wasn’t enough time to recover between blows.”  Maurus words came out in a rush, then ended abruptly.

“It’s okay, Maurus.  They wanted to maim me.  What you did hurt, but there was no malice there – I know that.  I’m not traumatized or anything.”  Harry smiled again as though to demonstrate his lack of ill-feeling.

Severus entered the room, carrying the _Daily Prophet_.  “Well, you made the front page, Harry.”  He held up the paper so that the three men could see it.  A moving photograph showed Harry, collapsed in Severus’ arms, with one still-gauntleted hand around his waist and the other cradling Harry’s head against his shoulder.  The look on Harry’s face was one of exquisite agony.  Severus was whispering something into his ear.  In the background, Lucius and Narcissa looked on, smiling gleefully.  The caption read, “War hero, Order of Merlin First Class Severus Snape comforts Harry Potter, Destroyer of Voldemort, Chosen One, Order of Merlin First Class while Former Azkaban inmate and Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, and his wife and convicted Voldemort collaborator, Narcissa Malfoy, look on.”

Severus sat on the edge of Harry’s bed to read the paper, occasionally reading portions of the front-page article out loud.  “’In a surprising move, the DMLE decided to revive a centuries old administrative punishment, whipping, to punish a minor bureaucratic infraction on the part of the Destroyer of Voldemort, Harry Potter.  Our sources tell us that Harry Potter, in the chaos surrounding the largest ever Neo Death Eater attacks, placed the medical scan performed on an infant in his pocket, possibly for later review.  While technically a violation of privacy standards, this report would have been automatically duplicated to Auror files in any case, and therefore accessible to Auror Potter as the lead investigator on the case.’”

“I wasn’t lead investigator, Jackson was,” Harry corrected.

“No one wants to tell _that_ little bit of truth to the press, Harry,” Draco laughed, “There would be a lot of explaining to do – after all, the Wizarding World trusts you, not this Jackson person.”

“May I continue?” Severus asked impatiently.  Draco and Harry exchanged smirks, and Draco gestured for Severus to continue.  “Fine, then.  ‘It appears that Narcissa Malfoy pressed the issue after it was brought to her attention by one of the orderlies who were tending the sick.  It is unclear why the orderly didn’t confront Mr. Potter directly at the time of the observed infraction.  Of note, the infant’s medical report was instrumental in Potter’s discovery of the mechanism of the curse used in the recent Neo Death Eater attacks, as well as the development of the antidote by Mr. Snape.’  The article continues here, blah blah blah, then “Mr. Cattermole, formerly employed by the Ministry of Magic and now a resident of Uzes, France, comments, “I’m surprised that such a minor infraction was punished so severely.  Before my family and I fled the country, witches and wizards were being threatened with the Dementor’s kiss while being harshly interrogated.  Not all of those conducting those ‘interviews’ have been brought to justice, but they whipped Mr. Potter due to mistakenly grabbing a piece of parchment off the floor?  Absurd.  Or worse.”  A bit later, “We asked why Mr. Potter allowed himself to be punished in this way rather than resigning his position as an Auror.  In a preprinted statement, Potter wrote, “I find myself unable to do anything other than bow to the will of the Wizarding World.  If the people seek my punishment, they should have it.”  This reporter wonders which part of the Wizarding World willed this?”

Severus smiled over the paper.  “Looks like they hit the high points.  Then, on page A2,” Severus flipped the paper open with barely constrained mirth, “’Harry Potter for Minister’.  Dozens gathered outside the Ministry of Magic yesterday evening waiving signs and shouting, “Down with corruption!”  and “Potter for Minister!”.  They remained there as this article went to press.”  Severus held up the paper so that the other men could see the large, roiling crowd depicted at the top of the page.

Severus silently read for a bit longer, then folded the paper and turned his attention back to Harry.  “Seems to have gone solidly in our direction, Harry.  On Monday, when you go to work, you’re to allow yourself to be waylaid by the press.  Give a statement that you’ve heard the Wizarding World wants you to be Minister for Magic, and you will run for office.  You are then to go directly to Robards’ office and hand him this,” Severus extracted Harry’s letter of resignation from his pocket and laid it on the bed next to him, “Then come home.”

Draco and Maurus stared at Severus, shocked at how sure he seemed to be that Harry would obey this sort of command.  Harry turned his head to look Severus in the eyes.  There was deep feeling in them.  _He’s risking a lot here_ , Harry realized, _If I don’t obey him now, he’ll be shamed in front of Draco and Maurus_.   “Yes, Master.  Thank you, Master.”  _Why do I thank him for giving me orders?_   Harry let his head fall back into the pillow, even that little exertion leaving him weary.  Maurus and Draco exchanged questioning looks behind Severus’ head.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Monday morning found Harry dressing under Severus’ direction.  He put on a freshly starched and pressed, full-dress Auror uniform, the harsh fabric scraping over his scabbed back.  His boots were the only thing not regulation.  He had switched them for a pair of bal-laced Dehner patrol boots, buffed to a high shine.  Above the collar, though, Harry looked a mess.  His lips, while no longer dry, were still cracked.  Both eyes had large subconjunctival hemorrhages.  Dark circles around his eyes set off the pallor of his cheeks.  He had tried to put a glamor over all of that, but Severus told him to let the reporters see what had been done to him.

Harry felt a bit light-headed as he made his way to the floo.  He wasn’t sure he was going to make it, but Severus had already told him the coverage would be even better if he passed out walking through the Ministry.  Glancing back once more at Severus, Harry entered the floo and stepped out into the large Ministry Atrium, where a gaggle of reporters had already gathered.  The disequilibrium of floo travel caught up with him a moment later, and Harry promptly vomited his breakfast onto the floor.

“Mr. Potter, would you care to comment on the DMLE’s treatment of you?” one reporter shouted.  Flashbulbs went off as the cameramen captured the obligatory images.  “Mr. Potter, what do you say to your supporters, who even now are massed outside the Ministry asking you to run for Minister?”

Harry raised both arms, wincing as a couple of scabs cracked open on his back.  “Ladies and Gentlemen of the Press,” he began formally, “Just as I accepted whipping in the belief it was the will of the Wizarding World, so to do I accept their request that I run for office.”  More flashbulbs went off, and another volley of questions were shouted by the growing crowd of journalists.  “I’m sorry, but I’m late for work.”  Harry broke away from the journalists to make his way to Robards office.

Smirtz looked up from the papers scattered across his desk as Harry made his way through the antechamber to request a meeting with Robards.  “Can I help you?  You don’t have an appointment.” Smirtz spoke with a bland, bureaucratic tone, but his face glowed with victory.

_Another enemy spotted_.  Harry thought to himself.  _And perfectly placed to inform the Neo Death Eaters about my report when it first came in_.  “I need to see Head Auror Robards, please.”

“He’s unavailable.  May I be of service, Auror Potter?”

“If you could give him this letter, I’d appreciate it,” Harry handed across his letter of resignation.

Smirtz opened the letter and looked it over carefully, breaking into a broad grin when he realized what it was.  “Well, Mr. Potter.  You know what they say.  If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.”

Harry studied the loathsome man for a moment, then muttered, “I’ll go clear out my office.”

“Wait!” Smirtz called as Harry turned to go, “You’ll need an escort.  We can’t have… _civilians_ wandering through the DMLE.”

Harry waited impatiently as Smirtz sent an interoffice memo requesting an Unspeakable to escort him to his office.  A few hours later, he had cleared out his desk and was back at home.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Epilogue: Several months later

 

Severus Snape sighed in contentment.  It was a Saturday morning.  School had been let out for the year, leaving the castle quiet and peaceful.  At his feet groveled his slaveboy and youngest ever Minister of Magic, Harry Potter, who just now was providing nice, steady foot service, just the way Severus liked (wet, with broad, firm strokes of the tongue to avoid tickling), one knee bent and kicked up over his back, his ass tensing rhythmically as he ground his cock a little against the thick rug as he worked.  Strictly speaking, grinding his cock into the floor was against the rules, but Severus Snape was a benignant Master and the action was clearly unconscious.  Of course, Severus would skin him if he actually came.

Severus picked up the paper again, finally finding what he was looking for.  Of course, he already knew that the bodies had been found.  Draco and Maurus were still sleeping in the next room, having spent the wee hours of the morning at a Muggle police station.  Draco’s presence had been requested to identify the bodies, and Maurus had gone along for support.  Still, it was nice to see it in the paper.  If Snape were less disciplined he would have clipped the article, but he had not survived this long by being stupid.  No, the paper would be burned like any other.

He set the paper aside again to sip his tea, leaving the paper open to page D6.

 

> _Three Bodies Found In Apparently Related Killings_
> 
> The bodies of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, missing since Tuesday, were found yesterday by the Muggle Police in the freezer at a butcher’s shop in London.  According to the Muggle coroner, they appear to have been severely whipped.  Their faces had been melted off with a caustic substance, apparently while they were still alive.  A third body was found in another part of London, similarly mutilated.  That body was identified as that of Reginald Smirtz, executive assistant to the head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement.  It is unclear why these three were targeted.

 

Severus reached down and grabbed Harry’s hair to redirect his service in an upward direction.  _Life is very good, indeed!_


	24. Sequel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Given various requests, a sequel has been started :)

You all told me you liked the dynamic, but either didn't want it to end, or didn't feel I had finished properly. Check out the second book of this series, A Second Coming Out, if you're interested in the continuing adventures of our boys.


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